


The X-Files: Redemption

by GeorgeHale



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Bees, Blasphemy, F/M, Gen, MSR, Native American/Mayan Mythology (X-Files), Post-Colonization (X-Files), Spoilers, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 06:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 73,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5732617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeorgeHale/pseuds/GeorgeHale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We wanted to believe… we wanted to call out… Sooner or later, a man's got to face his demons.  Complete. </p><p>Before the Revival was a thing, I was desperate enough for closure to write my own conclusion to the series' mythology and for our favorite moose and squirrel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Reference:  
> The Ultimate Congressional Hideaway by Ted Gup from The Washington Post  
> The Black Riders and Other Lines by Stephen Crane  
> The Hollow Men by T.S. Elliot  
> Living My Life by Emma Goldman  
> Long As I Can See the Light by Creedance Clearwater Revival  
> Moby Dick by Herman Melville  
> Plastic Jesus by Ed Rush & George Cromarty  
> Ulysses by Lord Alfred Tennyson  
> Hamlet by William Shakespeare
> 
> Dedication:  
> For Revell & Scully, Jr., my former partners-in-crime who will not read this, but once shared the greatest adventures with Nathan, Mike, Ray, & Jake in the Fingerprint Department. This is also for the lovely souls who provided me with positive feedback and waited patiently for the conclusion and for Requiem_X, because she makes amazing inspirational videos. Thank you, thank you.

**I**

* * *

 

 _“Should the wide world roll away,_  
Leaving black terror,   
Limitless night,   
Nor God, nor man, nor place to stand   
Would be to me essential,   
If thou and thy white arms were there,   
And the fall to doom a long way.”

\- Stephen Crane, **_X_**

* * *

“It began with an act of supreme violence - a big bang expanding ever outward, cosmos born of matter and gas, matter and gas ten billion years ago.  Whose idea was this? Who had the audacity for such invention, and the reason? Were we part of that plan ten billion years ago? Are we born only to die, to be fruitful and multiply and replenish the earth before giving way to our generations? If there is a beginning, must there be an end? We burn like fires in our time only to be extinguished.  To surrender to the elements' eternal reclaim. Matter and gas... will this all end one day? Life no longer passing to life, the Earth left barren like the stars above, like the cosmos.  Will the hand that lit the flame let it burn down? Let it burn out? Could we, too, become extinct? Or, if this fire of life living inside us is meant to go on, who decides? Who tends the flames? Can he reignite the spark even as it grows cold and weak?"

\- Dana Scully, _Biogenesis_

**OUR LADY OF SORROWS HOSPITAL**

**Fairfax, Virginia**

**December 22, 2012**

**5:16 p.m.**

 

What little was known was that swarms of aggressive bees were invading suburban areas across the Americas and Central Europe, infecting citizens with an unknown agent that was killing many outright while other victims were rendered comatose shortly after trying to infect as many others as possible.  The hospitals had no precedent for treatment of the presumed venomous substance and as patients filled the available beds of the hospital, individuals who were otherwise stable were propped in chairs and against walls where staff wouldn’t trip over them as they rushed to treat those suffering cardiac arrest, asphyxiation, and shock. 

Terrified families that had been near the scene of the original attacks were sealing their homes with anything available in an attempt to avoid similar fates.  The President had made a special address to the nation earlier to declare the pandemic a national emergency and to encourage people to remain calm and safe in their homes, but it did little to dampen the sense of panic the staff and families of the victims felt within the hospital.  Though the National Guard had been mobilized, there was no indication of their presence and it was all a clusterfuck of epic proportions if Dana Scully had ever seen one. 

Scully had recognized the altered Variola virus known as “Purity” as soon as she saw it and fought the urge to silently slip away as many of the other staff had through the day.  The thought passed briefly through her mind but she tempered it, knowing she was immune to the virus’ effects and a Doctor first and foremost.  Though she knew many of these patients had little hope, she did what she could as bodies rolled into their wards, unable to abandon hope that she might make some headway in finding a solution or at least halt the progress of the infection.  She had lost track of time but noticed the sun was setting as she navigated through the halls to where new patients were incoming. 

Scanning the room, her heart sank at the hopelessness of the situation hit her when she saw the masses that crowded the room and stretched beyond the doors.  Triage was collapsing beneath the strain and a nurse was arguing loudly with another doctor over why the hospital would not admit any additional patients.  Her pleas to put the victims on ice to slow the virus and to treat the victims for Smallpox had been ignored.  The other doctors insisted on treating the virus by outdated federal guidelines that would only hasten their patients’ deaths.  They had already run out of most of the medicines and antivirals they had been using to treat the victims and the situation was deteriorating fast.  Knowing their endeavor was futile, Scully struggled to remain calm and stifle the angry tears she felt well up.  It was all happening too quickly.  Still she could not give up, even if it meant she could only ease the suffering of the patients who had no hope.

Scanning the triage for anyone who might need care unrelated to the virus, she glanced at a small girl held in the arms of her father and a teenage boy wearing a baseball hat before her eyes locked with another man’s she hadn’t seen in over a year.  She was going to him then, overwhelmed with relief, overcome by love, and a few seconds passed before his arms wound around her hips and neck and her lips met his as they collided.  They reunited then like divers poisonously deprived of air and a momentary eternity passed before they parted gasping and gazed at one another, the silence between them speaking more than words dare convey.  Slowly then, as if assuring himself of her existence, he left his hand brush a loose lock back from her forehead before he cupped her cheek with his hand and brushed away the tears that had slipped loose.  Losing the tight grip she had reined over her emotions through the day, she embraced him tightly then tearfully, pressing her cheek against his chest as she sighed with the relief that he was alive and here with his arms around her again.

“I’m so happy to see you!  God, Mulder… where the hell have you been?”

Hugging her tighter to him, Mulder laid his head down against hers as he rubbed his hands up and down her back, relishing their contact and the relief it brought him.  “I told you I’d come back for you.  I tried calling but the networks are gone.  We have to get out of here.”  His heart had ached at the sight of her and he had feared the worst when he had not been able to reach her.  There was so much to do in such little time, so much he still needed to tell her.

“Mulder, these people need my help.”  She began to pull away from him, but he held her hand tight in his. 

“I’m not leaving without you.  There’s nothing we can do for them and you know it,” Mulder said, locking eyes with his partner.  “Come with me, Scully.  Trust me, I don’t have time to explain anything - but we need to go **_now_**.” 

Scully looked away from him at the panicked faces, saw the tears and frustration set deep in worry lines.  She desperately wished there was something she could do to ease their suffering, but Mulder saw her resolve slacken and took the opportunity to lead her through the horde toward the exit.  Screams erupted behind them and a fight broke out as a man convulsed and began spewing black oil across the individuals standing close to him. 

They ran out of the hospital through the ensuing panic and Mulder led them to a sedan parked by the road.  Reaching inside, he grabbed two capped containers and tossed one to Scully over the roof of the vehicle.

“It’s gas, douse yourself.”

“Right here?  Now?” 

“If you don’t want to risk ending up like that man in there, just do it.”  Mulder had already poured his bottle over his head and was wiping it into the creases of his clothes.

Cars were everywhere near the hospital but there were very few outside the immediate vicinity.  Mulder had known the masses would conglomerate in areas where they thought they might find safety, trapped and waiting for death like moths to flame.  Nausea threatened to overwhelm him as the gasoline fumes burned his eyes and tempted a migraine but he forced himself to focus on the present.

It was only after they had driven several blocks and her pulse had slowed that Scully appreciated how much her former partner had changed.  Mulder seemed leaner and had grown his beard back longer, appearing as hard and as wild as she had ever known him.  He was attractive in a primeval sort of way and she caught herself turning away as a blush swept her features when indecent thoughts crept into her mind.  Their parting had been too long and their brief reunion a reminder of what she had been missing.  Despite everything that had transpired and the fury she felt over the situation, Scully secretly thrilled to see Mulder and was glad he was safe.  If the world as they knew it was truly unraveling, there was no one else she would rather be with at the end of days.  For all his faults, she had loved this man a long time and always would.  As if fastening her fate, she pressed the clasp of the seatbelt into place.

“Where are we going, Mulder?” 

“Are you packed?” he asked.

“I have a suitcase ready if you call that packing.  This is it, isn’t it?  I didn’t even get my car and all my other things are back at the hospital.”  She was feeling annoyed at Mulder’s selective deafness and afraid that he would confirm the truth she would sooner deny.

Mulder grimaced as the sun flared behind a cloud, watching the landscape in the distance.  “It is what it is.  The fix is in, Scully.  Bees are spreading the Black Oil, knocking people out so they can serve as incubators.  Once the initial decimation is over the Colonists will harvest what they need and repopulate.  There won’t be much time until they start hatching out but we should be safe by then.”

Scully sighed softly as she had no argument to offer and looked out the window at silent streets already empty and quiet, startling in their contrast to the hustling city she had left behind when she reported to the hospital for her late shift last night.  She wished she could refute what Mulder was saying but knew better than to hope she was only dreaming.  It surprised her that she didn’t feel shocked by his revelation but only a vague numbness, as if it could not actually be true.  “I didn’t want to believe, Mulder.  I’m sorry I doubted you,” she whispered.

Mulder reached for her hand with his and flashed a small understanding smile at her admission in the fading sunlight before he returned his eyes to the road, choking the emotions that threatened to keep him from speaking.  “I’m so relieved to see you’re alright.  I was really worried.  I’ve missed you so much, and when I couldn‘t reach you, Scully I… There’s so much I need to tell you.”  He had turned the sedan onto the dusty road that led to the home they had shared and drove through the open gate that typically separated their secluded driveway from the rest of civilization.  Mulder slowed the car, distracted by the sight.  “Have you been letting that open?”  They had kept it shut devoutly when they had shared their former residence.

“No.  I shut it before I left last night, like I always do.”  

Mulder reached for the console and withdrew his sidearm.  “Packing any heat?” 

Scully shook her head, realizing the small weapon she typically concealed was back with her other items at the hospital.  Following Mulder’s outstretched finger, she found a loaded handgun inside the glove compartment.  It had been a long time since she had fired a weapon, and its comforting weight and grip in her hand contrasted the settling fear that everything she had once known in her life was over.

**SCULLY RESIDENCE**

**Clifton, Virginia**

**6:17 p.m.**

 

Mulder parked the car outside and the former agents cautiously approached their house with their weapons drawn.  Everything was quiet inside as they cased the house slowly and it appeared as if nothing had been disturbed.  Mulder felt then like he had been gone forever, seeing their house absent of his presence.  It enhanced the nausea he had felt since everything went to Hell.

He had often dreamed of Scully in this house on the rare occasions he had slept soundly while away and the narcotic bliss of those dreams played vividly as he looked over the elements of their life together he had left behind.  Eyes settling shut as he glanced at their couch, he remembered her covering him with a blanket once and how he had deftly turned at just the right moment so that he was able to pull her down on top of him.  The sound of her high and light laughter at his tactics haunted him as much as the electrified texture of her lips against his in the heated passion that followed.  Wiping eyes he did not want to open even as he touched a lost finger to his lip, Mulder turned away and moved toward the stairs.  The world was turning, and he knew the things they had shared together here were already the finest and rarest types of luxuries.  For nearly five years, they had happiness, love, safety, and space.  This had been their private retreat and Mulder had spent many hours remodeling the old house into a comfortable home they both enjoyed.  He had wanted to grow old with Scully here, coat the furniture and the walls with the dust of memories that he and Dana shared.

Shaking himself from his trance, he couldn’t help but wonder how he had managed to leave as he looked up the stairs toward the bedroom that he and Scully had shared.  With a solid tug, Mulder lifted the dusty lid of the banister post from its place stationed at the end of the stairs.  Beneath it laid a perfectly carved space that held a small switchblade gimlet.  He had placed it here when he had rebuilt the stairs.  Having one of his own already, he had attempted to give this one to Scully before but she had wanted nothing to do with it, claiming it was refuse from a previous life.  Examining it, he slipped it into his pocket before proceeding upstairs.

Two suitcases came packed from inside their bedroom closet, but Scully took a few moments to add her laptop and a few other essentials.  She finished the packing ritual in heated silence, disturbed by the gravity of the situation and her inability to change the necessity of their action, reliving her own memories.

“My Knicks hoodie! – I’ve missed this.”  Mulder grabbed the familiar garment from their bed as he landed on it, destroying her ruminations.  “How did I leave without it?”

Scully grabbed it from his hands and shoved it into her suitcase, cheeks flushing.  “You didn’t.  I kifed it before you left.  I didn’t want you to leave.”  She didn’t share that she had slept in it every single night since he had left.

Mulder sighed to himself having known this conversation was bound to happen though he wished it had come up later.  “I wanted you to come with me.  You could have, Scully.”

“We could have had another year.”  Scully refused to look up from her bag.  There was an edge to her voice that Mulder knew well.

“The date was set a long time ago,” he half pleaded, half spat, “I couldn‘t just ignore it.”

“You didn’t have any proof!”  The zipper of her last suitcase punctuated the statement as Scully nailed him with her gaze. 

While Mulder felt his own blood pressure rising, he refused to let the growing anger he felt raise his voice.  He flexed his jaw unconsciously, considering his next words carefully after he started once and cut himself off. 

“I turned out to be right though, and there’s a place for us now – there wouldn’t have been anywhere to go if I… I want us to live and be safe, Scully.  I traded a year for what I hope are many more.  It won’t be this, but we‘ll be together and alive whatever may come.”

Scully closed her eyes, fighting back tears and rage.  He was right, but she didn’t like it.  Did not like all the nights she had spent alone in their empty house thinking about him while feeling dead inside.  Did not appreciate the complete lack of communication or wandering every other moment if he was hurt somewhere needing her help.  Did not like his ambiguous hints about where they were going or how he was avoiding every question she posed.

“Why didn’t you contact me?  You always had before.  Nothing Mulder, a whole year!”  She turned to him so he could see the hurt evident in her features, and Mulder knew the torment as his own sense of loss.

“It wasn’t an option this time – anything I sent or did could have jeopardized everything.  I told you I’d come for you and I have.”  Mulder moved slowly from the bed and embraced her, hugging her tightly against him.  “It was hell for me, Scully.”  Speaking softly, he braced his forehead against hers.  “Every waking hour…  I’ve barely slept, thinking of you here by yourself, here all alone.  If something would have happened to you… I couldn’t handle it, Scully.  You know I didn’t leave in order to hurt you.” 

He lifted her chin to meet his gaze when she would not and brushed away a tear that escaped to her cheek when she finally relented and met his gaze.  “There’s something I need you to have.”  Taking her hand in his, Mulder slipped the switchblade from his pocket into her palm and closed her fingers around it.  Looking down at the strange cylinder, it took Scully a moment to recognize its shape and purpose.  Realization mixed with fear in her features and she immediately tried to push it back into his hand. 

“I don’t want anything to do with this.  I don‘t take lives anymore, Mulder, I save them.”  Looking up into Mulder’s eyes, she saw something strange pass that had not been there moments before - his panic face.  She could see now that he was masking a deep layer of agony she hadn‘t noticed before, something he wasn’t letting her glimpse into and she gripped his arm in response.   “Mulder, what is it?  Tell me.”  Worry for him began to overcrowd the other thoughts flooding her brain as her own brow creased to match his.

“I…um…”  Mulder tried to think of how to phrase any of the myriad of things he needed to say but couldn’t articulate any of them.  “You have to take it now, Scully.  I’ll explain, but later.  Always keep it on you, okay.”  Kissing her forehead softly, he took her bags and went to the car.  He needed her acceptance and knew she needed time they didn’t have.

Scully shut off the water and unplugged appliances as she moved downstairs.  She would not tolerate the thought that they might not be able to return and wished there was time to board up the windows.  As she moved around the house, she tried calling her Mother for the fifth time that day but felt the fear grip her tighter when there was no dial tone.  For what felt like the thousandth time within the same span, she prayed that she had made it safely to Bill’s from the airport. 

They had found no evidence of anyone in the house and if someone had been there, they had been very good.  Delivery drivers had left the gate open by accident in the past, but the gut instinct they had both come to trust over the years dictated that it had been a purposeful move on someone’s part, especially in light of the day’s events.  She shut the curtains as she chewed over the information she had observed.  The darkness had invaded her home, but she had never had to abandon it in the past.  Abandoning those she was tasked to care for, abandoning her home, she felt like a traitor.

Mulder didn’t like the delay but knew Scully was furious with him and was already feeling overwhelmed by what had happened.  He wanted to rush her, but couldn’t risk losing her again.  Trunk loaded, he stood observing the small oak he and Scully had planted near the driveway shortly after they had purchased the house, determined to stop running.  Planting the memorial had been in honor of their commitment to standing still, settling down, and William’s fifth birthday.  The brief thought of their son made him feel weak, like the fragile branches of the young sapling.  He wondered briefly if his fate would remain intertwined with the tree, if they both would persevere in light of every hardship they faced or if they would both bend and break. 

He looked at their house with longing and at Scully with relief as she finally joined him.  “This whole alien apocalypse thing is really going to destroy property values in the neighborhood.”  He looked to Scully to smile, but saw she had none to offer.  “I’m sorry we have to leave.”  His expression was somber when he reached out for her hand absently, needing to know she was with him, feeling some reassurance when her hand clasped his.  “I was really happy here with you.” 

“Where do we go from here?”  Scully asked as she gazed at their joined hands, meaning it literally but sensing the question had deeper dimensions.

Mulder dodged into the vehicle, dropping her hand along with the emotional overtones, just as he dodged the question.  “Have you ever heard of the Greenbrier Resort?”

“No…  I don’t think so.”  Scully sighed with disgust as she slid into the passenger seat and reached for her seatbelt, sick of Mulder’s cat-and-mouse game.  Why didn’t he just tell her what he knew instead of dangling it front of her in small tantalizing hints?  She felt that he was testing and coddling her like delicate porcelain and that was something he never did unless he was hiding something much worse.  She was waiting for him to reveal it, but impatiently. 

“As a National Historic Treasure, the Greenbrier’s classic architecture, exquisite interior design, carefully sculpted landscape, impeccable service and outstanding amenities have hosted distinguished guests from around the world since 1778.”  The look Scully shot him as she buckled her seat belt encouraged Mulder to stop reciting the tourist advertisement.  This was their life, not an X-File.

“Shortly after we began working together on the X-Files, the Post exposed the secret construction of a bunker built to house Congress in the event of a nuclear war.  Under the guise of constructing an additional wing for said prestigious resort, a 113,000 square foot bunker was sunk into the hillside beneath the new addition.  Undercover employees of the hotel maintained it at peak readiness for thirty years going so far as to keeping the active prescriptions for all members and enough C rations on hand to feed 1,100 people for three months.  After it was decommissioned in 1995, the former owners sold it at a loss to associates who founded the group I’ve been working with.  To answer your question, that’s where we’re going after a brief detour.”

Scully wasn’t shocked at this revelation, surprisingly still numb in the sense that nothing could stun her.  “Detour? For what?”

Mulder tried to school his features but failed, unsure how much he had pissed her off or how much he should reveal given how detached she looked.  “I can’t say what will happen yet.  I don’t know what to expect but if we find it, you’ll know.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.  I thought time was of the essence.”  She gazed at the home they had shared one last time, annoyed that Mulder was still being evasive and feeling like she was caught up in some perverse dream.  Finally reunited with her beloved again, but on the brink of destruction with little hope of success or survival. 

_The story of our lives._

“It is.”

 Mulder shifted the car in gear and drove down their driveway for the last time.


	2. Chapter 2

**II**

* * *

 

_“For small creatures such as we the vastness is bearable only through love.”_

\- Carl Sagan

* * *

 

Scully had drifted off at some point without intending to.  His hand entwined with hers, Mulder had been telling her about the bunker when he realized she had fallen asleep.  He refused to disturb her rest knowing how exhausted she was and turned his thoughts outward as he tried to focus on the road ahead.  It had started pouring shortly after they had left their house and visibility was nil.  Attempting to gain lost time, he sped as fast as he dared along the back roads he had mapped for this trip.  The thought of the unknown usually excited him, but the omnipresent nausea was there to replace it in light of the circumstances with the thick smell of gasoline and the constant metronome timing of the ticking wiper blades.

Mulder had barely registered the sound of something heavy landing on the car when a fist shattered the driver’s side window and drug him out of the car by his coat collar.  The car drifted slowly forward as Mulder was thrown down on his back on the car roof.  Scully had woken in panic as Mulder’s hand was torn from her own and now struggled to control the car.  Moving quickly, she shifted the car into neutral and directed the vehicle to travel down the berm as she maneuvered into the driver side seat where her exhaustion heightened her disorientation.  Above, Mulder felt himself gasp for breath as the supersoldier atop him drove his heavy knee down into his ribcage. 

Scully slammed on the brakes and shifted the vehicle into park position as soon as she could and the car came to a lurching halt, headlights illuminating the fog that had settled over the stretch of highway they had been traveling.  Mulder took the opportunity and used his advantage and the forward inertia of the vehicle to throw the soldier off him with his foot, sending him sprawling onto the hood of the vehicle.  Bloodied and wheezing, Mulder scrambled to his feet and felt for the gimlet switchblade bound to his leg.  Inside, Scully blindly groped around the glove compartment for the gun that she had placed back inside earlier. 

Mulder and the supersoldier cautiously assessed each other before the assassin moved in a blur of motion and swept Mulder’s feet out from under him with a kick.  Exiting the vehicle, Scully saw the being attacking Mulder and searched her pocket for the gimlet.  It paid her no attention as she screamed at it and continued its assault by dragging Mulder off the roof of the vehicle onto the hood and then from the hood on to the road.  There was a distinct snap when Mulder met the pavement shoulder-first and cried out in agony. 

The being’s hands were now around his throat and Mulder watched his vision condense to a tunnel.  The gimlet was still in his hand though he was quickly losing consciousness and his grip on the weapon.  Knowing he had one chance and with every ounce of strength he possessed, Mulder wrapped his arm around the creature’s shoulders and thrust the gimlet toward the back of the predator‘s neck.  The creature moved to deflect the blow and left himself exposed in doing so.  Rushing forward, Scully seized the opening Mulder had created and drove her gimlet down into the creature’s weak spot from behind.  The assassin struggled helplessly a few brief moments before collapsing in a heap atop Mulder.

Scully helped Mulder roll the hunter off his body before she bent down beside him to assess his injuries.  He was a mess but began to struggle to his feet and push her away from the bounty hunter’s body.  Scully pushed him back down onto the pavement firmly as a thin trickle of blood appeared at the corner of Mulder’s mouth. 

“Ooh!  Hey Doc, thanks.”  Mulder caught Scully’s hand with his own and held it still over his busted collarbone before he cried out again. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”  Scully was angry and horrified that Mulder had aggravated his injuries by trying to get up.  “Are you completely insane?  You could have a punctured lung or worse!  There aren’t any facilities that can-” 

“No, Scully.  Listen!  I know you have no reason to believe me about this, but I _will_ be fine.  Really, Scully…”  With horror and fascination, Scully watched as the cuts from the shattered glass on Mulder’s face began to seal shut, leaving unblemished skin in their wake.  She scrambled backwards in shock, taking the gun with her as she stared, unable to reconcile what she saw with what she knew.  She trained the gun at his throat, unsure what she was witnessing in the gleam of the headlights.  “What the hell?  What’s happened to you?”  Her voice was barely a whisper, drowned out by the rain.  “Mulder?”  Her voice trembled as she demanded answers.

Mulder had been afraid Scully would react this way and raised his hand apprehensively as he rested his weight on the front fender, his other arm useless now that his adrenaline had waned.  He remembered a time she had shot him in the past and did not care to relive the memory anew.  “Scully, it’s me.  You know me better than anybody.“

Scully sighed with a flippant annoyance, trying and failing miserably to view him with casual detachment.  “Apparently not.” 

“You’re the most stubborn…”  Under different circumstances, Mulder may have actually smiled at the indignant expression his partner was directing at him, but he knew he stood on dangerous ground.  “Trust me, I would have told you sooner and I was working my way up to it in the car… but you drifted off and I wasn‘t going to wake you.  I wanted to tell you back home but I didn‘t have the heart to do it,” he sighed.  “I wish I could laugh, say ‘I had you big time,’ but I can‘t.”  Mulder saw she was waiting for further explanation and knew he needed to be completely truthful with her now, despite the lack of time. 

Their relationship had always been founded on trust and he saw it hanging in the balance as he looked into her conflicted eyes.  He sighed, feeling the urge to panic, not wanting to share what she needed to know.  He was afraid that her perception of him would change forever, that she wouldn‘t believe him.  He looked past her when he finally confessed softly.  “When I was returned from my abduction experience, the antiviral agents you pumped me full of only slowed the process, Scully.  I think we both understood what was happening and chose to ignore it.”

Scully shuddered.Mulder transforming into something inhuman had been one of Scully’s greatest fears since his return, the muse of her most vivid nightmares.  The fear realized before her now as she listened in horror.

Mulder slowly sat up and used his working arm to crack his opposing collarbone back into place, debating the best way to convince her of his good intentions.  It popped suddenly and Mulder shouted as it shifted.  It would take longer than his face to heal and the pain was excruciating.  He couldn’t stand Scully staring at him silently.

“I never would have discovered myself if it hadn’t been for a confrontation like this that should have killed me…“  He searched for his next words carefully before he swallowed and looked up into her eyes, his voice sounding with the desperation of a man accustomed to loneliness and alienation.  “I‘ve been changed, Scully, but _I_ am still me and **_you_** are still my touchstone…  and I love you.  Ask me anything!  Ask me anything and I’ll prove it to you.”

Scully felt hot tears mix with the cold rain on her cheeks but chastised herself and didn’t lower the gun.  She wanted to believe the man desperately, did believe him, but she had been fooled by monsters impersonating Mulder before and couldn’t think of anything to ask him that any imposter might not know.  “How do I know this isn’t a trap?  Even if you believe yourself, how can you be sure it’s the truth?” 

“You don’t, you can’t,” Mulder shook his head very slowly, wincing.  “Twenty years together, Scully… and it always comes back to trust.  There’s nothing left back there to return to but death.”  An awkward silence punctuated the air between them.  “Scully, there’s still more I need to tell you but right now we need to keep moving.  It’s important and we may already be too late.”  Mulder rose slowly and kept his gaze on the ground, testing his ankles and other joints carefully on the way up.  “I know you still don’t completely believe it, but I hope you can accept it with time.  I’m having a rough go with it myself.” 

Mulder opened the driver’s side door and used his uninjured hand to pound out the large dent in the roof and clean the remaining glass out of the frame and off the seat.  Cuts from the glass appeared and healed within moments along his hand and forearm.  He moved slowly to retrieve Scully’s gimlet from the quickly decomposing soldier’s body, aching from their encounter.  The rain was already dissolving what remains were left.  He tried not to think of her second question or the issues it brought to surface.

“Who says chivalry is dead?”  Mulder offered Scully the gimlet in supplication as his dark eyes searched hers for the recognition they had lost.  “C’mon, let’s get out of here.  Do you mind driving a while?  This will heal faster if I sleep and it hurts like a bitch.”

Scully examined him head to toe from afar suspiciously for what felt like an eternity.  Then she stepped forward to accept the weapon and slid into the driver’s seat again, adjusting it forward, not knowing what to think or feel as a myriad of emotions fought for her attention.  They were both soaked so the chilled rain coming in through the open window seemed to make little difference.  She regarded him with silence a moment holding the sidearm she had taken from the glove compartment, evaluating him as he seemed distracted.

“If you thought we’d encounter one of those things at the house, why the guns?  You know bullets don’t stop them.”

Mulder shook his head, wanting to reach out to her and say something more, but struggled for words.  “The bullets in that weapon are magnetite hollow-points.  It seems like I’m becoming more sensitive to the stuff myself.  Scully, if I ever would… lose control of myself, I want you to end it before I hurt anyone.”

“The gimlet you gave me,” Scully exhaled, closing her eyes.  “That’s why you insisted I take it.“  She shuddered, knowing now it was Mulder for the power he had willingly gave her, and his nearly imperceptible nod told her she had assumed correctly.  She turned the safety on the weapon and handed it to him knowing it was a power she never wanted to wield.  “Put this back.”

Mulder laid the gun in the console between them and shared a look of gratitude with the person who mattered most in his life.  He hadn’t felt human in a long time and her vindication was the only kind he needed.

Scully had been following Mulder’s directions for a little over two hours and the engine had been sounding off since it had been used to bludgeon him.  Mulder’s route had covered many rural roads and it was hard to discern many of the road markers in the fog and rain.  Now she was at an intersection and was unsure which way to turn.  The road sign had blown down or disappeared and there was nothing to guide her.  Exhausted, she sighed and consulted the map again, wishing she had some coffee. 

“Left.”  Mulder mumbled.  Scully looked at him curiously, unsure when he had woken up.  “Mulder?”

Mulder roused, seeing the pointing arm of the phantom farmer in the field before them.  He appeared like a white shadow, lit in the fog by their headlights.  “Just… trust me.”  She turned and Mulder asked her to stop as they traveled down a stretch of road surrounded on both sides by forest.  There had been numerous unmarked turn-offs and they were out of directions.  “Great place for a pit stop,” she commented.

“No, it’s not that at all.  We’re close now, come on.”  Springing from the vehicle refreshed, Mulder retrieved flashlights from the back seat for Scully and himself, a small knapsack, and checked for his side arms.  He paused only when he realized Scully was not following behind him, slinging the knapsack over his shoulder.

“Mulder… I need you to tell me what we’re doing here before we go any further.  No more games.”  She retrieved the weapon from the console and eyed Mulder’s shoulder as she accepted a flashlight when he walked back, envious of his newfound energy.  He seemed completely recovered from his earlier encounter and she could hardly recall ever feeling so exhausted or emotionally drained.

Mulder stopped and looked at her while biting his lip, knowing he had to tell her but reluctant to say what might hurt her or raise her hopes.  He couldn’t delay any longer.  “William’s here somewhere.”  The words burst from his mouth as he gestured at the woods with his chin, shaking his head as he continued and approached her.  “But I don’t know what to expect.  I don’t know what condition he’s in.  I don’t know who he’s with and if he’s somehow infected, I don’t know if there’s anything we can do for him or anyone else with him.  I have a dose of the vaccine, but it’s meant to be used before someone is infected, not after.  I figure if it worked for you though, it might work for him.”  

Scully gasped.  “Why didn’t you tell me earlier! Oh my God, Mulder.”  Her eyes searched his face demanding an answer.  The man had been full of bombshells this evening. 

“You’re already in shock, Scully.  I didn’t want you to worry and I didn’t know what to tell you to expect.  I still don’t but now at least we‘ll know soon enough.” 

“We have to find him.”  Scully felt her pulse quicken as she turned toward the forest Mulder was already moving back toward.  “How do you know he’s here?”

“The family that adopted him doesn’t live very far from here and it’s hard to describe but…  I can sense him.”

In a different age, Scully had questioned the legitimacy of following Mulder’s hunches, but knew better under the circumstances as it had proved their saving grace many times.  She ran to keep up as Mulder moved deep into the forest quickly, his flashlight searching.


	3. Chapter 3

**III**

* * *

 

_"’Truth,’ said a traveller,_

_Is a rock, a mighty fortress;_

_Often have I been to it,_

_Even to its highest tower,_

_From whence the world looks black._

_‘Truth,’ said a traveller,_

_Is a breath, a wind,_

_A shadow, a phantom;_

_Long have I pursued it,_

_But never have I touched_

_The hem of its garment."_

\- Stephen Crane, _XXVIII_

* * *

 

**VAN DER KAMP RESIDENCE**

**Elkton, Virginia**

**8:44 p.m.**

A clearing appeared ahead that opened to a lot occupied by a farm.  An old yellow farmhouse occupied the central location but it appeared quiet and lifeless.  Nearby, the barn was also silent.

“Is he here?”

“He’s close.”

They cautiously approached the barn first.  Scully’s mind raced, hoping they were not too late.  If Mulder’s “sense” was correct, they would find him alive.

She helped Mulder as he opened the barn doors but they only found a pair of frightened horses inside.  Scully felt sympathy for them as she unbolted their pen stalls, briefly recollecting a doomed snake from her childhood.

The residence was different and Scully felt a wave of foreboding wash over her as they entered the dark house through the swinging kitchen door.  The oven was still on and the aroma of burnt pastry and bananas filled the air even as the door springs continued their rhythmic squeaking.  The woman lying on the floor had been baking in the kitchen when she had been attacked.  A young girl lay beside her face down in a pool of smashed glass and flour, unconscious and breathing, but infected and grossly swollen with stings.  Turning her over gently, Mulder saw her powdered eyes were lifeless, fathomless dark black pools.  Scully suspected the woman had suffered anaphylactic shock and asphyxiated.  She knelt by the woman, knowing it would be easier to examine her than the little girl she could do nothing for.  She never wanted to see the lifeless living eyes again. 

“How long do you think it’s been since they were stung?”

“Several hours if you want to trust the oven.”

“See if there’s any evidence that she or the girl were abductees.  I’m going to check out the upstairs.”  Mulder bolted up the stairs before Scully could protest.  If he was going to find William’s body, he didn’t want her to see.  The phantom farmer he had seen earlier was now beckoning to him at the top of the landing, insistent.  “Don’t touch them with your bare hands!”

Pictures lined the upstairs hallway and a large framed school photo of a toothy, devilishly smiling little boy immediately drew Mulder’s attention.  It was the nose he recognized first, and Mulder found himself matching the expression of the boy who resembled him so closely.  Save Scully’s eyes and coloring, Mulder could have been looking at one of his own grade school photos.  This was the boy that Mulder had built sand spaceships with on the beach in his dreams for years, but had never fully recognized until this moment.  He braced his hand against the wall for a moment as the knot in his stomach reinvented itself.

Mulder found the boy’s bedroom at the top of the stairs and off to the right.  His flashlight scanned over several posters of baseball players adorning the room and an old alarm clock that had been carefully torn apart on the desk.  He continued the search through the room, intent on finding anything that might give a clue to where William might have gone, fairly certain now that he wasn’t in the house.  Beneath the mattress, Mulder found a notebook with hundreds of sketches and was shocked as they progressed from childish doodles to elaborate detailed recollections.  Near the end he found several sketches of himself and Dana, some together and some apart.  There was an image of Dana walking in a black dress through the desert, a picture of himself painting an ‘X’ on a lonesome road with spray paint, Scully and him arguing in the rain in a dark cemetery.  The last image was that of a smoldering pie.  How much of what was happening had William foreseen?  He tore several of the later pages out and tucked them in his coat pocket.  His eyes and fingers shifted over the walls.  Several pictures were taped to the wall above the desk where the broken clock lay.  None included the boy, but the one that drew Mulder’s attention was of a tree house in a field.

Tearing the photo off the wall, Mulder tore down the stairs. 

Scully was examining a report card attached to the refrigerator with tears in her eyes, afraid of what Mulder might have to reveal.  “What did you find?” she whispered, bracing herself.

“Follow me!” 

Mulder was already out the door by the time Scully spun to join him.

Behind the farmhouse, Mulder ran through a field of tall grass.  His flashlight prodded the tree line looking for the outline from the picture.  He tripped over something and slowed to watch his step.  Several cows scampered from hiding in a group, bellowing as they moved toward the forest. 

Not far ahead, Mulder found a man’s body lying face down in the dirt.  Mulder dared not roll him over but saw from his clothes that this man had been their phantom guide.  The older man was hot to the touch, infected and swollen beyond hope for recovery.  The family members were incubators now, and Mulder might have ended their suffering if he could bring himself to do it.  He had killed in mercy before but these people had raised his son in his absence.  They had been the people William loved.  He apologized wordlessly to the older man. 

Scully called his name and pointed out the tree house that stood at the edge of the field before he could dwell on the tragedy any longer.  They ran for the base of the tree and Mulder climbed the ladder that led to the entrance when he arrived first.  A double layer of plastic sheeting had been stapled and taped over every opening.  It gave the tree house the appearance of a cocoon and Scully silently prayed that it wasn’t a death shroud.  Mulder rapped at the door and waited through the pregnant silence, his stomach looping turns that betrayed his outward calm. 

A boy’s voice finally responded, weak and scared.  “Who’s there?”  Mulder sighed with relief and the look he shared with Scully at that moment conveyed the joy, sorrow, and hope they both felt. 

“William!”  Mulder raised his voice.  “My name is Fox Mulder and I’m here with my friend Scully.  We’re here to help you.  Can you let us in?”

“I can’t,” came the muffled reply.  “The door is locked – I got stung and… can’t move.”  Scully felt her pulse quicken further and felt her heart might explode.  She felt an overwhelming need to go to him. 

“That’s okay.  I’m going to break through the door.  Cover your ears, okay?”  Mulder tested the strength of the door with his hand and knew it wouldn’t give to brute force at this angle, despite his reckless urge to slam against it with everything he could muster.  He climbed down a few rungs and aimed his pistol where he thought the lock clasped.  The explosion was deafening and Mulder turned his face from the shrapnel that flew against him as his ears rang.  An opening large enough for Mulder to slip his hand through formed and he was able to push the door open. 

William was huddled inside in the corner in a sleeping bag, pale, sweaty and delirious.  Dead bees coated the floor around him giving the impression of a poor shag rug.  Dana shed her heavy coat to kneel on and dropped beside him to check his vitals while Mulder provided light.  Seeing William alive and conscious had brought tears to her eyes that she hastily wiped away.  She fought to control her emotions, knowing the Doctor side of her needed to reign over the frantic mother.  She smoothed his hair back from his brow before feeling his forehead.  If there had been any doubts regarding his paternity when William was a baby, seeing him now made it obvious to her there should be none.  “You’re burning up with fever.  Are you allergic to bee stings?”

“Don’t think so,” William slurred past chattering teeth, barely opening his eyes as he looked behind her.  “What’s that?  Do I know you?” 

Mulder uncapped the syringe of vaccine in his hand from the knapsack and was handing it to Scully discreetly, his own emotions betrayed as it shook in transit.  “Goddamn bees.”

“The bees are carrying a virus that’s making people sick,” Scully said, examining it.  “This will help you keep from getting it.”  They had already both seen the dark shimmer of the virus in William’s eyes, but he seemed to be resisting it in part and neither of them wanted to acknowledge it.

William leaned to his side and vomited violently before righting himself slowly.  His sunken blue-black eyes bored into hers even as his shoulders slumped.  “You don’t lie very well.  I’m already sick.” 

Scully realized looking at Mulder how apparent their fear had been.  “Well, I’m a doctor and your F…ox and I are going to do everything in our power to get you someplace safe and feeling well.  That much is the truth.”  William ground his teeth as she injected him in the upper arm with the syringe.

“Can you tell us what happened?”  The boy had seemed on the edge of losing consciousness and Mulder desperately wanted him to stay with them. 

“The cows were acting funny.  A few got out… we were trying to get them back in the fence.  I was getting Pop a drink when I saw the swarm.  I ran to help him but he yelled at me to run.”   

“How did you know to put the plastic up?”

William was silent and Mulder thought he was going under for a second when he leaned his head back.  “I’ve been having terrible dreams lately,” he admitted quietly.  “There were black clouds coming at the house… Were you inside?  My Ma and Gracie were in the kitchen when I left.  Gracie’s only six.  They were maki…”  Mulder turned away as tears threatened his vision and was almost grateful that was the moment William’s brain submitted to the drug. 

As William passed out in her arms, Scully left herself release the frustration and sorrow she felt through her tears.  She hugged her son to her fiercely, never wanting to let him go.  He was so ill and everyone he had loved was gone.  “Should he be unconscious? Mulder?“

“The vaccine has a sedative component, but I don’t know,” Mulder said, quickly wiping at his eyes.  “It was an adult dosage.” 

“Mulder!” 

“That shot was meant for me.  I won’t tell you what I had to do to get it.  Better he’s overdosed than under.  You saw it’s already in his system.  We have to get him to the compound.”

“How are we going to get him down from here?”  Scully was already zipping William’s sleeping bag up around him.

“You help me.”  Mulder lifted the boy gently in a fireman’s carry with Scully’s assistance and made for the ladder.  He slid down it as soon as he was able and shifted William to his arms at the base.  Scully gasped in horror, thinking Mulder would break his legs or slip in the mud, but saw they were both fine before she could even shout.  Mulder offered a thin smile.  “Should have told you not to watch.”

Scully hurried down the ladder and struggled to keep up with Mulder as he made for the route they came in from the forest. 

Scully was gasping for breath when they made it back to the car and prayed it would start.  She slid in on the rear passenger side and helped Mulder get William onto the back seat where she could monitor him.  The car turned over a few times in protest but started finally and Mulder nearly hydroplaned as he sped off toward White Sulphur Springs.

“Tell me there are medical facilities where we’re going,” Scully pleaded.

“There are.  How do you think I convinced them to let you in?“  Mulder smiled at her grimly in the rear view mirror, wishing he could see what was going on.  “How is he?” 

“He seems stable for the moment, but there’s a lot of swelling and I’m terrified we may be…  They know you’re bringing him?”

“William was the reason they left me out.  They think he’s central to destroying the colonists.  They want to protect him.”

Scully sighed.  “Not this again.  There‘s nothing special about him, Mulder.  Spender injected him with that…”

“The effects of that shot weren’t permanent.  It just artificially dampened his abilities.  The suppression continued as he was treated for what his adopted family believed were migraine headaches.  That’s how they were able to keep him hidden, Scully.  They convinced the family to move here under the guise of a clinical trial program dealing with their treatment.”

Scully was silent, processing.  “How do you know all this?” 

“The group that purchased the Greenbrier - they call themselves the Resistance.  I’ve been working with them since I left last year.  Here, look at these.”  Mulder felt in his pocket for the crumpled sketches and handed them over his shoulder to Scully. 

“What are these?”  She fished through her coat for her flashlight.

“Sketches he had in a notebook in his room.  Do you remember what he said about his dreams?  He foresaw what was going to happen.  He knew we were coming.  Look at the one of the pie in the oven.  Why do you think he had plastic on all the windows and over the door?”

Scully looked through the detailed photos, impressed but nonplussed.  “If he was able to see the future, why didn’t he save them?  You’re really leaping here.  He didn’t know they were gone, Mulder.”  Her breath caught as she saw Mulder marking a lonely stretch of rural highway with the mark that symbolized them now better than any other.

“I don’t know… Maybe he only saw glimpses and couldn’t piece them together.”

Scully felt as if she’d been struck.  “You think he’s like Gibson…  I can’t believe this is happening.”  She looked down at their son and stroked his cheek, wishing she could take his illness away.  Forgiving his pale complexion and the short mop of dark copper locks that outlined his face, he was every inch the young image of his Father.

“He looks just like you, Mulder.”

In the rear-view mirror, Mulder’s eyes gleamed.  “Just as long as he doesn’t have a tail.” 

Scully thought of the sunrise as she awoke in the dark, thinking how it had always risen and set over each great species in pre-human history.  Protozoans.  Invertebrates.  The empires of human history passed in her conscious and she wondered how long it might be before she saw the sun again and if this dawn marked the first in what would become a post-human era.  Would it be an era dominated by telohumans like Mulder or some seldom-seen alien invaders and bogeymen?  What place would humanity hold?  What had she dreamed?  She dismissed the thought as she felt William’s burning forehead and made sure he was still soundly wrapped in his sleeping bag.

Mulder slowed the car as he turned left onto what appeared to be an old forest road.  The rain had washed it out and Mulder was forced to slow down considerably. 

“Ten more miles.”  He looked at his watch nervously and reset the odometer, glancing quickly in the mirror at Scully.  “Once we’re inside the bunker, the gates will be sealed for six months, maybe longer.  We’ll have to go through decontamination, but at least we’ll be able to get help for him right away.  I’ll have time to explain everything better once we’re inside.” 

The dirt road before them gave way to gravel.  The unkempt forest they had traveled through began to thin and appeared to be under much higher upkeep.  “Here we go.”  Mulder felt around in the console and pushed a button on a keychain.  The road ahead began to descend into the ground and they traveled down a ramp into a tunnel.  The opening to the outside world shut soundly behind them and Scully felt the sound reverberate through the tunnel and car.  The steady drum of the rain outside and in the front end of the car suddenly ceased and Scully felt disoriented.

The tunnel wound slowly.  Motion-activated lights faded on and off as they passed, casting shadows of the car behind them.  Finally, they came to a dead end and Mulder pulled the car up very close to the wall before he pressed the keychain again.  The wall and panel they were parked against began rotating and they found themselves in a dimly lit parking garage.

“When did we enter a James Bond movie?” Scully asked him.

Mulder turned around in his seat and examined her coolly as they waited through the turn.  “All these years you’ve known me, Scully, and you never realized that I‘m Bond?”


	4. Chapter 4

**IV**

* * *

 

_“Mulder, even if George Hale only saw elves in his mind, the telescope still got built._

**_Don't give up.._ ** _.”_

\- Dana Scully, _Little Green Men_

* * *

 

**GREENBRIER RESORT CONGRESSIONAL BUNKER**

**White Sulphur Springs, West Virginia**

**11:47 p.m.**

Mulder pulled back from the wall and parked them in the only empty space left in the shadowed lot.  They moved quickly, Mulder leading them to a security monitor and camera that were posted by a sealed exit.  It too appeared to be motion-activated and informed Mulder to standby for a retina scan before it chimed and Mulder began to whistle.  He finished the short tune and the blast doors in front of them released with a pneumatic burst.

“Seriously, Mulder?”  Scully might have laughed under different circumstances.

“ _Garry Owen_ , the tune of doomed men everywhere, Scully.  Colonists can’t sing or whistle, so that’s your human credential here.”

“If that really is the case, I am doomed.”

An elevator concealed behind opened before Mulder could respond and took them down several floors to the quarantine area.  Two doctors and a nurse clad in biohazard gear met them with a stretcher.  Mulder laid the unconscious boy down and they began rushing him quickly to an adjoining isolation room.  

Scully updated the staff on the boy’s condition, relieved now in part that there was a professional facility awaiting them and not the primitive clinic she had expected.  “He’s displaying symptoms of shock and significant swelling.  He’s been stung a number of times but has been overdosed with vaccine.  Unconscious now just over an hour.  No known allergies.”

Positioned inside the isolation room in thick hazard gear, a doctor drew a thick clear plastic curtain around the bed while the other set to beginning an I.V. and inserting a breathing tube.  The nurse drew a blood sample and left the room quickly.  Another assistant entered with bags of ice and began layering them over William after she cut the sleeping bag off from around him to limit the swelling and slow the progress of the virus present in his system.

The doctor who appeared to be directing the others did not look up from his examination.  “With your permission, I’ll start an epinephrine drip followed by a course of antihistamines, steroids, and antivirals.”

The course sounded appropriate to Mulder for what he knew but he looked to Scully to approve and she quickly nodded her assent.  Limit the swelling and aggressively fight the virus.  One of the nurses left to gather supplies.  “Have you treated anyone with the virus before?” she asked the man.

The doctor nodded, but did not share that the outcome had not been positive for any of the patients.  Mulder noticed his friend’s quirk and understood the implication of the nod without a verbal response.  A low rumbling reverberated through the room for several prolonged seconds.  “What was that?” Scully asked.

“Midnight,” Mulder murmured.  “They’ve sealed the bunker.” 

Scully wasn’t sure whether to be alarmed or relieved.  The medications arrived and the nurse who had administered the ice loaded the IV packs with the thick liquid mixture.  The action slowed and everyone left the room with the exception of Mulder, Scully, and the doctor from before who drew their own blood for testing.  The doctor directly addressed Scully as he finished bandaging her arm, wiping helplessly at the facemask of his layered helmet.

“I apologize I wasn’t able to introduce myself earlier,” he said in his deep altered baritone.  “My name is Threadgoode, but everybody calls me Theo.  It is nice to meet you finally, Dr. Scully.  Hound dog here never shuts up about you.”  The older man winked up at Mulder as he delivered the jibe, apparently relieved to settle finally after all the commotion of their arrival.

Scully was unable to cover how overwhelmed she was, but trusted the man before them since Mulder did.  “Thank you.  Is there anything else we can do for him right now?”

“Until the blood work is finished, no,” Threadgoode shook his head.  “Let the vaccine and fluids get into his system and do their job.  Were either of you stung?”  Seeing their indications that they had not, the man stood up in his suit slowly, exposing his advanced age in the care he took.  “Then I’ll take my leave and see what I can do about rushing those results.  It may be tomorrow before I see you again.  The other new arrivals are going through decontamination and I‘ll be needed there.  Use the alert if anything develops and I’ll get here as fast as I can.”

Theo patted his shoulder in passing but Mulder caught his arm before he left.  “Thanks.”

Beside the whir of medical machinery, the room fell silent.  Seated together on a storage unit that doubled as a bench, they began a vigil that wound over the next several days.  Scully’s bloodshot eyes held a thousand silent questions, and Mulder was unsure where to begin.  William’s heart monitor quietly heralded the passage of time. 

“Theo’s good,” Mulder nodded, placing a reassuring hand on Scully’s knee as she wiped her brow.  “Former field surgeon.  John Hopkins neuroscience and a soldier enhancement think tank where he became privy to information regarding the early supersoldier programs.  After he retired he became involved with the Resistance and showed up here a few months before I did.  He helped me a lot when I first arrived.”

Scully sighed.  “Do you hear what you’re saying, Mulder?  What happened to these doctors that were treating him before?  Why aren’t they here?  I mean, he didn’t even ask about where you got the vaccine.”

“Scully… he’s the one who helped me palm the dose.  Besides you’ll be here to help and supervise.  If anyone can help us help William, it will be him,” Mulder nodded.  “I don’t know where the other doctors are,” he admitted.

“I’m scared, Mulder,” Scully admitted uncharacteristically, leaning into him.  “There’s so many things that-,” Scully began but Mulder cut her off.

“I’m scared too, Scully, but try not to think about it right now, okay?  I know it’s hard.  C’mere.”

Opening his arms, Mulder silently invited her to rest against him, and while she resisted sleep at first, it was not long before she passed out with her head in his lap.  Tucking a stray loose lock back over her ear, he was content to watch over them both, worried but relieved that he had been able to get them both to safety. 

A nurse came to check on William some time later and Scully talked at length with her regarding his care.  The isolation room that housed them connected to another room with several cots and they took turns sleeping after they had both finally had a chance to clean up and change clothes.  Once Mulder finally slept, the dreams he often had of the boy on the beach returned to him and he saw the boy had grown older and was his son.  He had thousands of dreams like this over the last decade, but they had never been so vivid and the boy had never appeared to age. 

_The monochromatic beach was lined with sand ships now that towered around them several stories high.  The water lapped at them but they did not wash away as they had in the past._

_‘More ships.  They’re much larger now,’ Mulder murmured to his dream son, but the boy had been in the distance and slipped out of sight behind one of the mounds.  Mulder had tried to find him, but the ships were a labyrinth that he ran through until he was exhausted.  He yelled for William, but the boy did not answer.  He found himself resting his hands on his knees, bent over, breathing hard._

_“You really think you’re safe now? The sins of a father cannot redeem a son.  They’ll find him now.  Find him and kill you all.  But that’s alright,” a distinctive old man wheezed behind him.  “It didn’t have to be that way but now it’s meant to be.  Everything dies, Fox.”_

_Mulder spun hard as he heard the voice of the man breathing smoke.  He watched a cigarette fall from the man’s hand, land at the man’s feet, and watched as he snuffed it callously with his shoe._

_“You won’t be able to save them this time, Mulder.  No one can - it’s his destiny... and yours.  It ends soon.”_

When he woke screaming, Scully was shaking his shoulder.  “You’re having a nightmare, Mulder, wake up.  William’s here, safe with us.  We’re all safe.  We’re all okay.  He’s okay.”  She took him in her arms as she had many times when he experienced nightmares and smoothed his hair, wanting to give him comfort with her presence.  Mulder wanted to believe, but his heart pounded and his eyes were wide with fear.

When they were both awake, they spoke mostly of the boy at his bedside.  Long and lanky already like his father, it would be many years before he filled out.  Scully decided she would be happy if he only regained consciousness and his health.  She had once been able to fight off the virus and prayed her son would have the strength to as well.  She reflected she had done more praying in the last twenty-four hours than the last five years, but concluded that desperate times required desperate measures and didn’t think God would mind.

“Don’t worry. He’s an UberScully, our own little Great Mutato,” Mulder assured her, gripping her hand tighter.  “I’ll bet he’s as stubborn as both of us.  Good luck to us both if he is.” 

Leaning close, Scully left her head rest against Mulder’s shoulder as they regarded their son.  “Still think he looks like Walter Skinner?”  Mulder tilted his head to look down at her with a furrowed brow as she raised an eyebrow at him and they shared their private smile.

On their second day in the bunker, the attending doctors drew more of William’s blood for analysis.  Heavy levels of Phenytoin in his blood had them confused, but Scully linked the drug use to the “preventative treatment” that had kept William’s abilities subdued.  Mulder himself had received the same drug when he struggled with his artifact experience just over a decade before.  At Scully’s request, additional equipment was brought to help monitor William’s brain function.

Mulder had taken the initiative to arrange for their quarters and supplies through the communications system and they both had listened rapt and horrified as the day passed to the radio bulletins from outside that channeled through the base for anyone who decided to listen.  Looking over William once the arrangements were complete, Mulder chewed through a pocket of sunflower seeds and on his lip absently as he listened to one broadcaster’s descent into madness.

_“…have announced that martial law is now in effect nation-wide and throughout the entire Roanoke area.  Local government facilities have collapsed beneath the strain of demand and Homeland Security authorities state that the situation is similar across the country and throughout the European Union…”_ The announcer paused briefly to crumple the paper near the microphone.

_“For those of us left, the only real question remaining is survival.  Have you been to the ruins of Memorial hospital?  There are thousands of bodies littering the hallway, their chests cracked open where these creatures birthed themselves to feed on every living thing they could find!  There was no cure!  There is none!  It was all lies, man, and now they’re all dead!  This is the Judgment, friends, the weeping and gnashing of teeth, oh yes, we were warned and now time has come for us all!_

_Not with a bang, but a whimper.  Elliot said this is the way the world ends.  The epic finish of all our yesterdays, the triumph of science, the Age of Aquarius, the end of digital man!  This is the way the world ends, Honey Boo Boo -- it’s the sixth extinction, mother-”_

Sweeping past Mulder, Scully quickly shut the speaker off as she entered the observation room, visibly upset.  “How can you stand listening to that garbage?”

Mulder shifted so he could reach up and turn the radio back on.  “Keep something on, Scully.  I’m going stir crazy and I can’t stand sitting still.” 

“No, you never could, Mulder,” Scully stated joining him, the edge back in her voice.  The broadcast had scared her and now she was annoyed with herself and him for having it on.  The way Mulder’s eyes appeared glazed over made her nervous.

“Hey now.”  Mulder changed the frequency until another station came in as he met her reluctant gaze.  “I don’t wanna fight.”

_'cause this feelin' won't leave me alone._  
But I won't, won't be losin' my way, no, no  
'Long as I can see the light.’

“Dance with me, Scully.”  Mulder stood, grabbing her hands, drawing her close before she could protest.  Slipping an arm around her waist, he began to slowly dance them around the room half in-time with the music.  “A revolution without dancing is not a revolution worth having.  Am I right?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered close to her ear, growing serious as they turned together.  “I’m sorry I lied to you.  Forgive me.  I, uh… meant to protect you.  I’ll always try to protect you.” 

It was as intimate an embrace as they had shared since their reunion and an even rarer occasion that they danced.  Taken back at first, Scully felt herself slowly relax into the familiar embrace as Mulder lead them about.  She could barely recall the last time they danced like this, but if she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend they were anywhere else their journeys had taken them through the years as John Fogerty pleaded from somewhere beyond.

_‘Put a candle in the window, 'cause I feel I've got to move.  
Though I'm going, going, I'll be coming home soon,’_

“Don’t be sorry,” Scully relented.  “I‘m grateful you came for us.” 

_‘Long as I can see the light.’_

“I should have been honest from the start, Scully…  I was afraid you wouldn’t come with me if I told you.  All these years we‘ve shared, and I wanted to hide it from you because I couldn‘t accept it myself.” 

_‘Long as I can see the light.’_

“Maybe I wouldn’t have come with you,” Scully admitted.  “It’s hard to believe, and even harder to accept.”

_‘Long as I can see the light.’_

“It is.” 

“It’s not quite how I imagined ringing in Christmas this year, Mulder… but thank you.“  Scully traveled a hand up over Mulder’s shoulder blade and behind his neck meaning to draw him down for a kiss but instantly froze and broke their contact just before his lips met hers once her hand came to rest on something that hadn’t been there before. 

Mulder was heartbroken, knowing he bore the marked bumps she had felt at the nape of his neck. 

“Oh Mulder, what have they done to you?”  She hugged him tight before she brought his forehead down to hers and they stood there a long time, braced against one another.

At 10:13 p.m. on Christmas Day, the last public broadcast went silent.  The static left in its wake was as eerie as the last alarming moments when the broadcaster fought to keep the invaders from entering the station.  Chanting an unintelligible prayer, the broadcaster had shot himself just as the studio door was battered.  Sickening snaps and unintelligible noises followed before silence replaced them.  Together then, heads bowed, they cried for the fallen.  Their lips met and they lost themselves completely catching up with each other that night, desperate for a sense of normalcy and escape in a lost world.

Tangled together in their sheets on their combined cots that had collapsed to the floor, Mulder told her about his involvement with the Resistance.  “On the day Colonization began, our forces released their own bees, engineered to inject venom that would prove fatal to the infected unconscious and newborn Colonists.  There won’t be nearly as many as there would have been, at least near here.  Surface teams are also burning the infected to keep as many from hatching out as possible.  These troops were all vaccinated against the virus, but they don’t have a large window to work in and they have to survive topside while they work.”

Scully began to murmur, but Mulder continued. 

“This is only the first stage of a rebellion coordinated by survival groups scattered across the globe to slow their progress and to expose their weaknesses.  Still,” Mulder sighed, waving a hand across the air before drawing Scully closer to him, “chasing monsters with a butterfly net.”

Scully turned so that she could look up at her favorite set of eyelashes, eyebrows lifted in surprise.  “You mean everyone here hasn’t already been vaccinated?”

“No,” Mulder shook his head slightly, opening his eyes.  “It’s a difficult production process and the vaccine itself is fragile.  It breaks down easily.” 

“Then how did you get that dose, because you’re already-“

“I volunteered to lead one of the strike teams that will be sent out once the next phase begins.”

“Mulder!  Why?”  Scully’s eyebrows furrowed, her displeasure apparent in her inflection.

Mulder cautiously captured her eyes with his own after looking away.  “I know this may be hard to believe, but they didn’t need a criminal profiler.  I joined as a mercenary and used my information and abilities to gain what leverage I could.  It’s how I was able to come for you and William and get the vaccine.  Besides, you saw how I’ve been changed.”  He swallowed, finally able to share the demons that had haunted him over the past year.  “My, uh… unique capabilities have made me an outcast here.  I’m simultaneously regarded with a dangerous mix of awe and suspicion, but they keep me around because I’m useful.  Just call me Muldersaurus Rex.”

Scully hugged him against her tighter sharing what comfort she could, grateful for his sacrifice to keep her and William safe, but frustrated with the context.  She couldn’t help but think of how Mulder had similarly been viewed by their colleagues at the F.B.I., not wanting to speak of his physical transformation or indulge in his self-pity.  “My funny valentine… Spooky Rex.”

Mulder softly chuckled since the only alternative was to cry and drew the blankets over both of them in the darkness as he began to drift off, so grateful she was back in his arms.

“Dana?”

“Hmm, yeah?”  She lowered her chin and nestled her head against his chest.

“You know you’re a sorry son-of-a-bitch when it takes the end of the world to put a smile back on your face.” 

Smiling against him, Scully placed a healing kiss over his heart, wishing she could take his pain away.    


	5. Chapter 5

**V**

* * *

 

_“If you are out to describe the truth, leave elegance to the tailor.”_

\- Albert Einstein

* * *

 

Late in the evening of the fifth day, William woke up.  Disoriented and feeling the need to cough, he thought he was having a nightmare for several minutes as he struggled to tear out his IV and breathing tube.  Mulder restrained him as gently as he dared and tried to calm him down.  As recognition dawned in William’s brain, he placed where he knew the man and woman from and stilled suddenly, looking up into Mulder’s eyes.  His wrists were clenched in Mulder’s hands and Mulder felt his terror.

“Be still and let us help you, William.  You’re alright.  You’re safe with us.”  The shimmer of the virus that had glazed his eyes was gone and Mulder felt his heart swell with gratitude. 

Scully motioned for Mulder to help William sit up and explained to him softly how she would take out the breathing tube.  Mulder had always admired how amazing she was with children and how devoted she had been to their son’s care these last few extended days.  Though a short time, it had seemed like an eternity from the time they had arrived at the compound and he silently thanked the Fates for her medical training.

William leaned back into his pillow, feeling weak and nauseous once Scully had finished.  Mulder saw his memory was beginning to return to him as she left to get him some water from the other room.  “William, you had said you had nightmares about what could happen.  Your dreams came true.  You drew them.”  Mulder couldn’t resist probing what the boy knew. 

“Mulder, let him rest,” Scully called.

William blinked and wet his lip.  His mouth had never felt so dry and he coughed again, feeling the raw irritation in his throat.  He assessed Mulder cautiously, unsure how much to disclose to the stranger he somehow knew.  “You’ll think I’m crazy if I tell you.”

Mulder chuckled as he made eye contact.  William had no idea who he was talking to.  “Try me.”

William swallowed collecting his thoughts, debating what to say between fits of coughing.  “I’ve had bad dreams for a while, maybe the last month or two.  My parents said it was just a phase I’d grow out of because I’m growing, but then I kept having them…  I was always covered with insects in the one I had the most.  Bugs in my eyes and hair and mouth, so many that I couldn’t tell what direction anything was in and I couldn’t get them off.  Covering every inch of me.  I remember how it felt to have them crawling all over and down my throat – I _never_ wanted to feel that again.  So I put the plastic up over all the windows to keep the bugs out.  I slept up there sometimes and it felt better that way.”  

Mulder wondered if William had ever had dreams about the beach like he had and that question prompted dozens more.  The other questions could wait, however.  “What do you remember happening last?” he pushed.

“The bees,” William whispered, remembering.  “So many… they swarmed like a black fog and I ran.  There were some in my tree house.  I stapled the plastic over the door so more couldn’t get in, but they were making this horrible sound, like an engine revving.  I got stung killing the bees that were left, and the whole time I heard Pop screaming.  I couldn’t help him or my Mom or my sister… I just felt sad and angry and hopeless while I stood there and I was going to go back out but I felt like I couldn‘t move anymore… and then I must have passed out I think, until you came.  You’re friends of my parents, aren’t you?”

“What makes you ask me that?” Mulder asked, tilting his head.

“You knew my name.  Everybody calls me Will, though.  No one has called me William since I was really small.  You look familiar, though, like I should know you.  My Mom talked a few times about my Godparents.  She had said they had helped her and Pop have me, but I never met them.”

Mulder smiled at the irony, knowing he had to concoct something beyond the truth, but not wanting to lie.  “Your mother and I are old friends.  We used to work together.” 

William’s left eyebrow twitched upward, and Mulder recognized the mannerism from Scully who betrayed it when she detected a whammy.  William didn’t push the issue, however, so Mulder dropped it.  While he didn’t like deceiving his son about the truth, William already had enough trauma to cope with for the moment. 

“How long have I been here,” William asked, looking around.  “Are we in a hospital?”

“It’s a hospital of sorts.  We’ve been here five days.“

Will’s eyes grew more alert as he struggled to sit up.  “My family, they’re all de-“

“Yes,” Mulder finished for him, feeling the extraordinary wave of guilt wash over him anew.  “I’m sorry.”

The boy covered his eyes with his hand and sank deeper into his pillow, turning on his side away from the man.  Alone in the world where everything and everyone he had ever known and loved were lost.  He didn’t want this man to see him cry as tears burned his eyes and the full gravity of their fate sank in.  None of this could actually be real.  This had to be just another one of his nightmares.

Scully returned with the water then and few throat lozenges that had been brought with other supplies for their quarantine but froze when she saw their mutual expression, and her brow furrowed in a silent question.

“His family,” Mulder mouthed.

“Oh,” Scully said sadly, setting the items in her hands on the table attached to the bed.

Mulder had an extensive background in psychology, but was better at profiling criminals than comforting children.  He looked to Scully for guidance, but saw she was also at a loss.  Her natural reaction to hold him would upset him, she knew, but she could not stand watching passively as William wept for everything he had lost.  Gently, she sat down on the edge of the bed and held William’s hand.  He did not remove it, but was lost to his grief and did not acknowledge her presence.  Trapped in a strange room with strange people bearing the loss of everything he had held dear, she knew the boy felt orphaned.

Scully chose her words carefully, pressing her lips together.  When she spoke, it was slow and soft, the way her own Mother had addressed her many times.  “I know you’re hurting right now, William, and that you must be very sad, but I want you to know that Fox and I are here to help you and we’re not going anywhere.”  She wanted to say more, but stopped when tears threatened her composure.  She glanced at Mulder and he nodded his agreement with what she had said. 

“Just… let me alone, please?”

Scully‘s heart broke but she stood up, repressing her emotions in the expert manner that had served her well all her life.  “Sure, if you need anything – we’ll be in the next room.” 

Mulder joined her where she was standing and wrapped an arm around her as they left the room.  Once they were back in the bunkroom, she buried her head in his chest to mute her sobs as he held her close.  How was it possible to feel such gratitude and misery in tandem?

“We need to give him time, Dana… his entire world has been turned upside down.”

“I know…  It’s just so hard to see him in such pain.  I want him to know us for who we are.  We’ve already lost so much time with him and he thinks we’re strangers.  I wish there was something I could do to comfort him.  I know it was impossible to hope for, but I just wish he could remember me.  I should have never abandoned him.”

Mulder felt his heart clench with guilt looking down at the woman he loved beyond words.  He had inflicted so much pain on her.  He had to believe that everything he had done was worth it.  It was the price one had to pay to be a player.  Deep Throat’s successor had attempted to make that clear to him long ago.  Even if his quest to stop Colonization had been unsuccessful, hadn’t the sacrifice been necessary to try?  Now that the Devil was at the door, he wasn’t so sure.  It was trench warfare, and he and Scully were the only two left in the platoon.

He had asked Dana to stop several times before for the sake of her own well-being.  He had loved her enough to let her go then though it would have devastated him.  He had realized falling in love with her was a natural and selfish act on his behalf but never realized how vital she had become to his existence until it was too late.  Losing her now would destroy him completely.  Now that she was invested as much as he was, he couldn’t ask her again.  Instead, he guided her to their improvised bed and let her spend her sorrow in his embrace.

Much later, once he was sure she was sleeping, he carefully extracted himself and returned to William’s bedside.  There would be no easy rest for him anytime soon and he was worried about William being able to deal with everything that had transpired.  It was his own experience losing his sister that had marked him so deeply so many years ago, and William had just lost his along with the people he knew as his parents under tragic circumstances.  The boy’s face was hidden beneath his pillow, but Mulder knew he was awake from the sound of his breathing.  He sat near the door bathed half in light and shadow, away from William.  When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and low.

“I was twelve when I lost my sister.  Samantha was eight.  I was watching her while my parents were at a party next-door.  We were watching TV and playing a board game.  My sister and I were fighting because she wanted to change the channel and I wanted to watch _The Magician_ that was going to be on.  The next thing I knew, there was a bright light and I was paralyzed.  I watched helplessly as she was lifted off the ground and pulled through the window by an invisible force.  By the time I could move, I ran for my father’s gun but it was too late.  The windows had shut, the lights had come back on, and I was at a complete loss for what happened…  The event devastated my family.  My parents grew apart, and we all stopped speaking to one another for a long time…”  Mulder shuddered with the visceral angst telling the story still made him feel.  “It took me decades to come to terms with the truth that _nothing_ I could have done would have saved her.” 

William turned to him, bleary-eyed, and brought his head out from under the pillow.  “Did you ever find out what happened to her?”

“Yes, but it took years.  I became obsessed with finding out what happened to her – I joined the F.B.I. so that I would have greater tools at my disposal in my search.  Eventually, I found out that she had been taken hostage as insurance against my Father speaking out regarding classified information he knew.  I think he realized what happened, but never spoke up because he was afraid they might come after my Mother or me next.  Samantha died in 1987 years after she was abducted due to the side effects from experiments that had been performed on her.”

William sighed.  “How do you know my family is gone?”

Mulder was silent, unwilling to translate the horrific images trapped in his brain into words. 

“I saw them – the man was in the field, the woman and the girl were in the kitchen.  They were gone.  It was too late to help them and there was nothing that could have been done.”  Mulder schooled his expression carefully.

William watched him intently, gauging him.  “But there‘s more you won’t say.”

Mulder had turned away from his intense stare, but turned and met William’s gaze at his comment.  “Having me describe the details of their death in minute detail isn’t going to help you do anything about it.  The only thing you need to focus on right now is your recovery.  Don’t dwell on things you had no control over.  You’ll only damage your spirit.  Trust me.”

William frowned and turned his head away, bitter.  The drinking glass that had been sitting on the table beside his bed violently flew against the wall in the direction he had turned and he stared at the shattered glass, startled.  Nothing like that had happened since he was much younger, and until now, he had only remembered it as a dream.  He was enraged when he turned his gaze back to a shocked Mulder.  “Why should I trust you!  I can tell you know a lot more than what you are telling me and you don’t understand…  I have to know what happened to them.  Why are you even doing all this?  I’ve never met you!  I mean, thanks for helping me and everything, but you can‘t expect me to trust you if _you_ won‘t tell me the truth.”

Mulder sighed and looked down at the glass, then toward the room where his partner was sleeping.  He knew she wanted William to know, and Mulder wanted him to know the truth as well, but was this really the time?  Mulder wanted Dana to be here, but what if William reacted negatively, which was likely?  Social graces had never been his gift but he knew he couldn‘t stand seeing Dana tormented.  He inhaled deeply, thinking.  There would never be a “good” time.  Still, it haunted him that William had so much to work through already and he had no way to know whether the truth or lies would hurt him more.  Though he had spent years as a professional negotiator, nothing had prepared him for this.

“William… Will… you’re right, we have been keeping you in the dark.  Chances are, you’re not ready for what I need to tell you, but you need to find out sooner or later, and I’m not sure how long Scully and I can keep up this act.  Neither one of us enjoys lying and whether you believe me or not, I really do want to tell you the truth.”  Mulder couldn’t help but stare at the glass on the floor, another part of his mind processing the incident.

“Scully?”

“That’s Dana’s last name.  She was my partner when we worked together at the F.B.I. and we called each other by our last names.  I’m Mulder, she’s Scully.  My first name is actually Fox, but I hate it and no one calls me that.”

William’s eyebrow twitched again as Mulder continued to stare at the glass.  “She did… I thought you were married.”

Mulder exhaled and smiled at the irony.  “And you’re not the first person who has made that assumption.  We might as well be.  I asked her once but she thought I was joking and I was too, at the time.  Never got back around to it after that though maybe I should have.  Things were too dangerous.”  Mulder furrowed his eyebrows, reflecting.  “That sounds weird, I know… but it’s been twelve years give or take, and we worked together years before that.  I think Lord Kinbote, Buddha, and the Big Guy, whoever, knows we’re good.  She’s my power-of-attorney, if that counts for anything.” 

William eyed him warily, not sure what a power-of-attorney was or why Mulder had the slightest of smiles etched on his face as he watched him.

Mulder bobbed his head, nodding.  “Anyway, that swarm didn’t just attack your house.  Bees were spreading the virus everywhere.  Scully and I came for you because we were concerned for your safety – you’re important to us and the other people here… for a lot of reasons…”  Mulder sighed, shifted as he bit his lower lip, and then pulled a folded printout from his pocket.  “William, the people you knew as your parents raised you, but they weren’t your biological parents.  They adopted you when you were barely a year old…  Your birth parents gave you up when they realized that they couldn’t keep you safe from harm.”  Mulder handed William the ribbon of paper before he could say anything.

“Before you regained consciousness, the medical team here ran blood work on all of us to check for the virus and to see if our blood types matched in case you needed a transfusion.”  Mulder pointed to a series of dashes and dots at the bottom of the page that had been circled.  “See this?  Ours matched.  That in itself wouldn’t be very remarkable, but what makes it special is… it’s a blood type that has never existed.  We’re different from everyone else in the whole world, you and I.”  William was speechless, connecting the fragments the man was giving him to piece together. 

Mulder reached for his wallet and produced a well-worn photograph of him and Scully with a very young baby boy.  It was the last photo they made before the first time he had left for exile and the picture had been with him ever since, one risk he had insisted on taking.  It had been a tender moment, William wrapped soundly and sleeping in Dana’s arms as she smiled sadly at the camera for Mulder’s sake, knowing he was about to leave them both.  Instead of looking directly at the camera, Mulder had wrapped his arm around Scully’s shoulders and kissed her temple, apologizing.  He reflected on the photo momentarily before handing it to William.

“I’ve carried this photo everywhere with me since it was taken eleven years ago, and we’ve both wondered about you every day since.  I remember wondering if you were walking, what your first word was… if someone was teaching you how to hit a ball with a stick.”

William examined the photo carefully, silently.  His own parents hadn’t had any photos of him as a newborn.

Mulder’s next words inflected the guilt he still felt.  “Your mother has never really forgiven herself for putting you up for adoption, even though it was the best way to protect you at the time.  I wasn’t there to help her, thinking it was me they were after,” Mulder exhaled.  “I thought I could protect you both if I left, but I couldn’t.  They wanted to kill me, but… they wanted you, Will.  They kidnapped you once.  Good people nearly died trying to help keep you safe.”  Mulder felt himself becoming emotional and took a deep breath to help himself regain control. 

“Your safety was always the most important thing to both of us and that’s why the decision was made to hide you where you wouldn‘t be in danger… Where neither of us would know, in the case that we were captured.  Scully loves you beyond words, Will, and it’s been killing her to keep those feelings hidden.  I… I love you too, and I don’t want to lie to you anymore,” Mulder shook his head, staring at the wall. “It wasn’t a lie when I said I was an old friend of your mother’s and that we used to work together, but it was deceptive.  I never knew the woman you knew as your mother and I’m sorry that this has all come to pass.  I am so… sorry, for everything.”

The faintest of smiles passed William’s lips as he remembered.  “She never worked outside our house.”  Mulder nodded, realizing his error and the trigger of William’s tell.

“You’re probably not sure how to react to all of this, not even sure if you can believe it, and that’s okay.  You need time to think about everything that has happened…  I found out several years ago that the man I had believed to be my father, your namesake, actually wasn’t.  I had been raised as if he was and I still think of him as my Dad…  Regarding me and what place there may be for me in your life, you’ll have to make your own decision.”  Mulder found the courage to meet the boy’s gaze again.  “I hope I don’t disappoint you.  No matter what, I’m wholly devoted to keeping you and your mother safe.”

William examined Mulder closely, frowning to himself.  “The pictures…  That’s why you look too familiar…”

William stared again at the photo, as if he were searching for deeper meaning, something he couldn‘t quite remember.  “Her eyes are blue like mine…  There were these papers I had found in my parents‘ safe once, but…  Well, you could make it all up, too, I guess…”  He handed the photo back to Mulder and laid back, covering his eyes as he winced.  “I feel weird.”

Mulder stood up and pulled William’s hand down so he could look closer at his eyes.  “What’s wrong?  Should I get Scully?  She’s a doctor.”

“No… I’m just starting to get one of my headaches, it’s okay.  A doctor?  I thought you said you were F.B.I. agents.”

“I’d get you something, but they have you on all these different medications so I have to ask her.  Actually, she earned a medical degree before she entered the service.  She became a specialist in brain diseases and disorders after she left.”

“What about you?”

Mulder placed a palm on the boy’s forehead, unsure if he could detect a fever or not.  “I did my doctorate work in psychology.  Before I started working on the X-Files, I did psychological profiles of serial criminals in the V.C.U. – Violent Crimes.”

“So she’s a doctor and you’re a shrink?  That’s funny, I always thought F.B.I. agents were just cops.”

Mulder smiled, shrugged, and moved toward the door.  Scully needed to know about this headache, especially if William had a history of migraines.  His own theory regarding their origin was beginning to form in his mind. 

“Don’t wake her up.  Just turn off the lights and let me lie here a while.  Sometimes they go away if I do that.”

“Is there anything you need before I go?”

“No.  Just, uh…  I don’t know if I believe all of it, but thanks for telling me all that.”

Mulder nodded and switched off the light that hung above his bed.

“Goodnight, Will.”

“Goodnight…”


	6. Chapter 6

**VI**

* * *

 

_“In one word, Queequeg, said I, rather digressively; hell_ _is an idea_ _first born on an undigested apple-dumpling; and since then perpetuated through the hereditary dyspepsias nurtured by Ramadans.”_

\- Herman Melville, _Moby Dick_

* * *

 

Mulder sat on their improvised bed beside Scully and gently kissed her cheek.  “Hey, I’m sorry to wake you up.” 

Scully murmured something unintelligible but turned and looked at Mulder with sleep-glazed eyes.  “Hmm?  What is it?” 

Mulder found her beautiful in her rumpled state and couldn’t help but brush a stray lock from her forehead back behind her ear.  “Kid has a headache.  He didn’t feel it was anything major, but I wanted to let you know.”

Scully thought a moment before sitting up.  This cot was killing her and she longed for a real bed.

“How long have I been asleep?”  She hastily reached for her hair tie and pulled her hair back. 

“A few hours…  Scully, do you think his brain is reacting to the lack of Phenytoin?  What if he ends up like I was?”

“After you were exposed to the ship artifact?”  Scully seemed very much more aware.

Mulder nodded, and Scully thought about the possibility.  She had been so busy seeing that the virus was eradicated from his system that she hadn’t thought much about the effects of removing the drug.  She chastised herself for losing track of it in the midst of everything else. 

“I’ll have to see.”  She started to stand up, but Mulder caught her hand.

“Dana, wait.” 

Scully looked at him quizzically, wondering why he was holding her up and changing the tone of their interaction by using her first name.  “What is it?”

“I told William.  He knows now.  We don’t have to lie to him anymore and… his ability is returning.”

Scully paused, unsure whether to sigh with relief or berate Mulder for revealing the truth without her.  “How did he take it?”

“He threw a glass against the wall when I lied to him.  He’s not sure what to think right now, and that’s normal.  I think he believed me once I finally broke down and told him the truth.  I showed him the bloodwork.”

“He shouldn‘t be throwing anything.”

“He didn‘t use his arm.”

Scully didn‘t want to think of the implications in Mulder‘s last quip, not in light of what might be happening.  “First things first.  Let’s see about this headache.”

Returning to the room, Scully studied the brain monitor in the dark and sent the most recent data to the lab to be printed.  William lay motionless with his eyes screwed shut and his hands clenched tightly at his sides, illuminated only by the dim lights of the machinery in the room.  The migraine had deepened.  Noises in his head had become louder and increased in frequency.  He didn’t recognize the added voices of the man and woman at first.

“His brain activity has increased since earlier.  Mulder, this is way above baseline.”  There was a shared look of fear between them as Scully paged Dr. Threadgoode.

“William, can you hear me?”  Scully moved to the head of the bed, grabbing a doctor’s pen light from the table.  “Can you open your eyes?”     

In William’s head, the woman’s voice was stronger now, closer.  It was becoming difficult to respond, but he finally forced his eyes open and stuttered.  “Feel weird...  never had a migraine like this… hear weird noises.”  He winced as Scully checked the dilation of his pupils.  The light was blinding.

Mulder stepped closer now, concern etched deeply into the lines that creased his forehead.  “Do they sound like voices?”

“I don’t know.  Yes… loud.  Body won’t…”

Mulder’s fears regarding William’s experience relating to his own were confirmed.  His temporal activity was increasing as the Phenytoin worked its way out of his system.  William’s body would eventually shut down if they didn’t find a way to slow his brain down.  Mulder felt his gut churn and tried to keep his voice calm.

“Listen, William, I’ve experienced what’s happening to you.  You’re going to feel like you’re trapped in your body, but it’s just your brain taking over.  We’re going to solve the problem and help you feel alright.”  Mulder grabbed the boy’s hand and squeezed it lightly. 

Theo came through the door, sound and bristled fury in a bathrobe.  “What happened?”

Scully indicated the E.E.G. monitor.  “Look at this.” 

Theo, older than he appeared, removed his bifocals and examined the display.  “Doesn’t seem possible.  And what the hell is this glass doing all over the floor?” 

“Mulder?”  Scully nodded, indicating they should step outside the medical chamber.  In the adjoining room, she leaned against the wall.  “Until we can figure out a better solution, I think we need to put him back on the Phenytoin.” 

“I thought it had long-term side effects.”

“Potentially, but he’s certainly not showing any signs or symptoms of that, which I admit is odd.  The faster we get it back into his system, the better.  Don‘t get me wrong, I don’t like it at all, but it’s better than the alternative.  I never experienced what he’s dealing with, Mulder, but you have.  I just can’t think of any better options right now.  What do you think?” Scully yawned and stretched her arms over her head, still feeling the effects of being woken suddenly.

“If you think it’s the best course for now then do it.  I trust you.”

“Alright.”

_William’s view of the world turned white as dreams replaced his vision of reality and the pain that throbbed in his skull.  Upon a hill, he walked through knee-high grey grass toward the apex, compelled by curiosity to see what might lie on the horizon.  As he neared and his hands skimmed over the tall sleek blades, he marveled at a lone bold dandelion that stood defiant against the wind, outlined against the sky and a single ancient oak tree, bathed in golden sunset light.  The grass circled around it circumspectly in geometric formations, defining its place.  Finally standing beside it, out of breath, William gave it a wide berth and beheld the land below him._

_The plain was overcast, the sun now having set all the sunsets of his life.  Dark shadows shifted over the land.  A storm was on the horizon, lightning and thunder disrupting the calm.  Scanning the landscape, his eyes were drawn to the ocean in the distance and the beach that met the surf.  Squinting, he noticed a man on the beach and the vision suddenly zoomed closer.  The strange sensation made William lose his balance and step back, but strong arms caught his shoulders behind him and helped him regain his balance._

_“Hey, I’ve been trying to find you.”  It was the man.  Fox Mulder.  The man who claimed to be his father.  “Where have you been?”_

_William spun, disoriented, searching for the hill he had just been standing on.  He pointed far into the distance to where he viewed the lone oak high on a cliff, but Mulder seemed unable to follow his gaze.  William noticed the high mounds that surrounded them now, elaborately crafted sand ships that stretched down both sides of the beach as far as the eye could see._

_Mulder reached down and started shoveling at the base of one, destroying its foundation.  “Help me?”  William regarded the ships with awe and bent down to help Mulder dig._

_They worked together for hours, silently, and William was discouraged that their effort seemed in vain.  The mound they had attacked still stood and the boy felt tired.  A hand ruffled his hair and William met Mulder’s eyes, disheartened._

_“Don’t despair.  This quest is not ours alone.  We are only the first, not the last.”_

_From the sea, Scully rose and joined them with a pail and after meeting their glances and smiling as if she were joining them for a picnic, set to work.  A bald man in eyeglasses came next carrying a shovel, also from the sea.  Then a trio of gentlemen came bearing their arms as martial artists.  With the exception of the woman, he did not know any of the individuals.  It was then he saw the wave of people coming from the sea, bearing instruments to assist in the destruction of the great sand ships.  He did not recognize any of these people either, but Mulder seemed to know them all.  A boy just older than him who seemed to bring the tide with him.  A solemn, quiet girl, not quite his age.  He nodded to each gratefully as they set upon the ships with zeal.  The wind was stronger now, the dark storm clouds in the sky set to break.  The distant roll of thunder sent gulls fluttering and calling._

_“Hope is faith extending its hand in the dark.”  The hand that extended to him was Dana’s.  William considered and searched for meaning in her fiery countenance, the blue eyes that seemed to match his own, but felt none would be forthcoming unless he accepted her offer._

_Their darkest, deepest fears were here, rising below the waves.  They were coming to engulf the Earth in the depths of their secrets._

_Grabbing Dana’s hand, he completed the circuit and Mulder’s hand came to rest on his shoulder as lightning cracked and filled the sky with blinding flashes in rapid succession._

William’s eyes flew open as the drug tore his thoughts away from his subconscious.  The pain was terrible, but the boy could move voluntarily albeit slowly, and he was dazed, unsure where he was.  Jaw clenching, he tested each toe and every finger.  His eyes shifted as the signals from the outside world conflicted with the images of his subconscious mind.  “Mom?” 

Scully’s heart skipped a beat as she shut off her penlight and gripped his hand tighter.  She knew he hadn‘t been thinking of her as he came out of the fog, but didn’t care.  “I’m here, William.”

William’s vision cleared and he focused on the woman, who sighed in relief.  Her voice had a comforting, unique timbre against the others mixing now in the background. 

“Hey… welcome back.”  Her voice betrayed her and she hurriedly wiped a few tears from her eyes.  “You really had us worried there.”  He still had her worried, but at least he was conscious again.  It had been several hours before the drug had the desired effect, and Scully was deeply troubled by the high dosage it had required.  She sat down beside him in the chair Mulder had occupied earlier, though she pulled it closer to the bedside. 

“How are you feeling?”

William sat up slowly, rubbing his temples.  “Like Abraham Lincoln.”

Scully ducked her head and smiled, realizing now that William had developed his Father’s dark sense of humor. 

“You think so?”  William thought the voices would drive him mad but he heard hers clearly and it made him ache when he realized how beautiful she was inside and how much she was secretly hurting on his behalf. 

Scully looked at him, full of questions and despair as William considered her.  Had he realized that he had questioned something she hadn’t said out loud? 

“I can tell you’re worried about me, the drug, that I won’t be able to accept you… so many things.  Try not to worry.  I know you’re just trying to help me…  It will be okay.”

Scully’s baffled expression portrayed her question.

“I can feel you thinking.  I know you know what I’m talking about.  It’s finally beginning to make sense.”  William closed his eyes.

As Scully and the other doctors continued working on a solution for William’s condition, he continued to regain his strength as the treatment stabilized his immune system and the Phenytoin stabilized his brain, suppressing his abilities.  He was able to eat again as the swelling decreased and was back to walking, if only to pace the short hallway that separated the quarantine unit from the rest of the bunker.  He was exceptionally tall for his age, and Scully hadn’t realized this until she saw, depressingly, that he already stood taller than her if only by a smug inch. 

The reunited family bonded and Mulder and Scully came to know their son for the young teenager he was developing into.  Mulder and William seemed to share a natural affinity that Scully was nearly jealous of, but she could not help but smile when she noticed a new similarity between the two.

After Scully inspired him in telling her Father’s old Navy stories to William, Mulder had a novel brought from his pack that made Scully laugh aloud when revealed.  As they sat passing time, William intoned the characters of _Moby Dick_ as he read to them the opening chapters of the tragic story of the white whale and one man’s obsession.

_“…Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.  This is my substitute for pistol and ball.  With a… philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship.  There is nothing surprising in this.  If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, sometime or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me…”_


	7. Chapter 7

**VII**

* * *

 

_“Sometimes we must come full circle to find the truth. Why does that surprise you?”_

\- Priest, _Revelations_

* * *

 

Three days later, four weeks had passed since William’s symptoms disappeared and their time in isolation was finished.  They were finally able to leave the confining prison that had been the quarantine chambers.  A young soldier guided them through the complex before stopping near an unmarked area.  Scully had never realized how far the complex reached – it was disorienting after being so confined.  “These will be your quarters, sir.  I hope you find them satisfactory.”  The soldier posted himself by the doorway. 

Mulder was unsure why the young man was not leaving.  “That will be all, lieutenant.”

“I’ve been assigned to guard the boy, Captain.  This is my new post.” 

Mulder shared a glance with a bemused Scully before he turned his attention back to the guard.  “By whose authority?”

“The Overseer’s, sir.” 

The orders spoke volumes.  Mulder noted to question it later, as it had never been a part of his negotiations, unlike the upgraded quarters.  Ducking to enter behind Scully and William, Mulder closed the door and beheld their new home.  Four small interconnected rooms, with most features and military-grade furniture designed to have more than one use were all theirs.  By the standards of the bunkrooms they had passed and in which Mulder had resided previously, it was spacious.  Still, Mulder noticed how Scully’s face fell as she examined the dimly light closets that were their new rooms, despite her attempts to look enthused.  She was hiding it well, but he knew this would be a difficult adjustment for her.  He had always been comfortable in close quarters, but knew her better than to think the same applied for her.  Fingering the symbol of the eagle emblazoned on a fold-down desk, he coaxed his brain to generate something comforting. 

“C’mon Scully, nothing a few throw pillows can’t fix, right?  This is bunker luxury at its finest.  The Senate majority leader would have resided in these quarters.”  William smiled but Scully did not.  The humor did not appeal to him as much as the affectionate gesture had.  While the drug in his system had limited the thoughts he sensed, one did not have to have a supernatural affliction to understand the love evident between these two.  It was awkward, confusing and embarrassing for him to think about. 

Scully smiled for Mulder’s sake, but knew he saw past it.

A narrow hallway connected a bathroom, bedroom, smaller bunkroom, and kitchen.  Set out on the bed in the main bedroom were three bags of simple green fatigues labeled with their names.  Mulder’s pile included gear that had been transported from his bunk while Scully received several lab jackets and a medic‘s pack, along with her suitcases that had been brought from the garage.  William’s pile included an oversized protective vest.  Gathering his pile, William set to transforming the smaller bunkroom into his own.  He was curious about the vest and somewhat apprehensive.

Mulder changed into his officers’ uniform as Scully continued exploring their new home.  Scully didn’t notice him until he wrapped his arms around her from behind after he had emerged from the head clean-shaven and transformed from the scruffy lay-about who had kept her company through the last month. 

“Why don’t you both get comfortable and settle in?  I need to check in.  I’ll be back in a bit and we can get something to eat.”  He nuzzled her cheek affectionately and planted a kiss there before he withdrew knowing she preferred him clean-shaven, but Scully reached out and laced her hands behind his back before he could turn around. 

“Hey Ahab, look at you.”  She traced the outline of his jaw that his beard had concealed and straightened the collar on his jacket as she checked him out in his uniform.  “I must say I could get used to this look on you, _Captain_.”

Mulder grinned down at her as he debated the wisdom of an Oedipalian wisecrack but decided against the intellectual browbeating and kissed her instead.  He never wanted to waste another opportunity.

The Director’s form stood silhouetted against a large backlight display of the geographic country.  Political boundaries meant nothing in the new life they were taking on.  He turned as he heard Mulder identify himself to the guard posted outside the door. 

“It’s good to see you, Mulder.  Shut the door.”

Mulder did as he was directed and slid into a chair at the desk behind where the man stood.

“Thanks.  It‘s good to be back, considering.” 

Walter Skinner joined him at the desk and took the seat behind it.  “Glad to hear you found them and got them both back here safely.  You had us worried.  The Over had a whole battalion ready to send out if you didn’t report in.  Are they adjusting okay?”

“I think it’s going to take time, but Scully’s always been one of the most resilient people I know.  And William… it’s hard to tell.  I think he’ll be all right…  Listen, I’ve been meaning to thank you for your support when I requested to be released and allowed to go for them alone.  Did the Overseer speak to you at any point about posting a guard to Will?”

Walter smiled, realizing he had pegged unpredictable Mulder after all these years.  He had known Mulder would question him regarding the sentry.  “I’m surprised, Mulder.  I thought you would have realized who he was.  He requested the assignment from me, and when I told him I didn’t want to spare him, he went over my head.  Somehow, he convinced him to override me.  You’ll understand once you speak to him, and if that’s not enough, ask him to remove his gloves.  That will jog your memory.”

Mulder tilted his head canvassing every mental image he had of the young soldier, finally recalling that he had never seen the young man without gloves on and dressed in his fatigues.  “Go speak to him, Mulder, I’m not going to give it away.  I’m sure you’ll be as shocked as I was.  I’ll stop by later, if you don’t mind.”

Mulder nodded absently as he stood up to leave, consumed now in chasing the breadcrumb trail that Skinner had set before him regarding the mysterious guard.

Mulder hailed the guard as he returned to his quarters, mulling over why Skinner mentioned the gloves being removed.  “Can I speak with you, lieutenant?”  The officer remained standing at his post, but focused his attention on Mulder.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Director Skinner tells me you requested this duty and went to the Overseer to obtain it.  Tell me why.  I don’t even know you.  Why are you concerned with my son’s safety?  Convince me you‘re not a spy or an assassin before I decide to kick your sorry ass.”

The young soldier smiled at the provocation, wondering if the former F.B.I. agent might have recognized him without his beard.  “Agent Mulder, I know you don’t remember me, but I had hoped you might.” 

Mulder compared the man to the database in his head from his days as a federal agent, trying to gauge the young man‘s age and how he might have appeared in the past.  “Should I?”

Carefully, the lieutenant removed the gloves from his hands and held them palm-up before Mulder where the defining marks of a stigmatic were clearly present.  “My name is Kevin Kryder.  We met last when I was a boy.  You and Agent Scully kept me safe and now I’ve come to return the favor.”

Mulder was shocked as the face before him took on elements of recognition.  “Kevin…  That’s why I didn’t recognize you!  How did you get here?”

“The same way you did, Sir.  I joined the militia.  I’ve been a part of the group for the past three years.  The director wasn’t happy when I requested guard duty.  He said my medical experience was too valuable to waste.”

“He’s right.  Why appear now?  I’ve been here nearly ten months and you’ve never approached me until now.”

Kryder didn’t hesitate as he met Mulder’s scrutiny.  “I know what‘s coming, Mr. Mulder.  I’ve seen it.  Now is the right time and my place is here now.  Even in the corps amongst friends, you have enemies who would bring you harm and… do terrible things.  I _will_ guard Ms. Scully and William with my life, make no mistake.  They’re not able to protect themselves the way you can.”  They regarded each other silently, and Kevin lifted his chin slightly.  “You know I’m right, even if you won’t believe me.”

Mulder assessed the guard, hoping he was an honest man.  “I’ll tear you limb from limb if you’re not.”  Mulder considered the value of having a bodyguard and weighed the possibility that Kevin had been sent as a spy or worse.  Skinner seemed to trust the young man and that would have to satisfy him for now.  He would need to investigate further and knew exactly who to ask.  

Inside, Mulder found Dana and William combing slowly through one of the photo albums she had packed in her suitcase.  These were William’s baby pictures and Fox hadn‘t seen Dana look at them for several years.  Mulder joined them on the empty bunk in William’s room where they sat as Scully narrated. 

“Most of these were taken at my apartment in Georgetown, but a few were taken at your father’s.  Scully pointed to one of Mulder holding William atop a basketball.  “Like this one.”  She smiled, remembering happier times.  “No basketball at my house.  Your father had high hopes before you could even hold your head up.” 

“She never got sports.”  Mulder stood up extending his hands to his family.  “I hate to cut the trip down memory lane short, but the mess only serves lunch until fourteen hundred.”  He pulled them both to their feet.  In their rush out of quarantine that morning, they had skipped breakfast, and it was already after one.  Mulder led them toward the mess hall.  “Know how to tell military time, Will?”

William shook his head, grateful they were finally going to eat.  He still didn’t feel comfortable imposing on his new-found guardians but he had been hungry for hours.  “It’s not extremely difficult, but takes a while to get used to.  Instead of the numbers going back to one after noon, they keep going up until twenty-four.  One becomes thirteen hundred; two is fourteen hundred, and so on.  Understand?”  William nodded and Mulder continued.  “I’ll be able to give you both the complete tour after lunch.”  Mulder ruffled William’s hair amicably, and William was reminded of his dream.  “Skinner says he’ll come by later and the Gunmen want us to join them for dinner.  I didn’t tell th-“

“Mulder, stop.”  He looked at Scully posed with a question and paused, realizing by the conflicted and incredulous expression on her face that he had never told her they had been alive and well here.  He cursed himself for being so thoughtless.  “How?” she demanded.

“The Gunmen staged their death after their operation was compromised by associates they had trusted.”  Mulder threw his hands up in defense as Scully leveled him with a terrible look.  “No.  Not us… I didn’t know at the time, either.  Remember the source with no proof?  The encrypted messages I had been receiving before I left… it was them.  I didn’t even know that before I left.  They run security and surveillance here and hacked the records that allowed us to find William, so don’t strangle them when you see them.  They had contacted Skinner too, not long after they contacted me.  He directs Special Forces here and that includes the unit I told you about.”

Mulder continued down the hallway, prepared for the heckling Scully was entitled to.  She reflected on Skinner’s sudden retirement shortly after Mulder left and had always wondered if the two events had been related.

“It’s all remarkable, Mulder.  Too remarkable, really.  If I didn’t know you better, I’d say it was unbelievable.”

They entered the mess hall and proceeded through the line as Mulder scanned the faces of the servers behind the counter.  As it was nearly the end of serving time, there was no one ahead to wait behind.  They sat by themselves at a small table and Mulder pointed out the painted landscapes and murals of the Capitol that had been painted in great detail onto the surrounding walls with his fork as he picked at his food with caution.

“They thought it would help the Congressmen cope better.  I just think it makes it worse.”

Scully grimaced at her Jell-O and agreed.  The food was edible if not delectable.  She noticed Mulder had been closely watching the guard who was quietly eating his lunch several tables over.  “You don’t trust him.”

“No, not yet.”  He decided against telling Scully the man’s supposed identity until he confirmed it himself.

“You shouldn’t worry about him.  He means what he said.”  William spoke nonchalantly as he broke an over baked cookie in half.  “Mulder won’t tell you until he talks to the other man, but he‘s one of the good guys.” 

Mulder quieted him with a glare as he set his hand on his arm.  “You need to learn to mind your own business.”  _‘I will not tell her until I know for sure.  It’s not worth upsetting her if it turns out to be another lie.’_

William’s eyes went wide as he realized the man had spoken to him without moving his lips.

_‘Do you understand?’_

William nodded and Scully rubbed his shoulder, not realizing what was transpiring between the two.  “Stop Mulder, you’re scaring him.  You had better come clean later.  I don’t like being kept in the dark.”  She was more concerned that the Phenytoin was beginning to lose its grip on the boy’s brain.

Once they were finished, they continued through different sections of the bunker, Mulder explaining what he knew and what protocols needed to be followed in each section.  Scully marveled at the complexity of the bunker’s layout and capabilities and thought it humorous they had ended up as ants in a colony.  The thought of providing clean water, sustainable food resources, power, clothing, and quarters for 2,000 people was overwhelming.  She wondered how long could it be maintained without contact to the outside world.

Their final stop brought them to a vast underground cavern that had been converted into a vertical garden and Mulder had deliberately saved it for last.  Suspended platforms of foliage silhouetted in artificial sunlight and water vapor blocked the ceiling from view.  A large, natural fast-flowing stream divided the cavern in half and green moss covered nearly every exposed rock face.

“This is my favorite area.  You can almost forget that you’re eight stories down.  Though most of the food in the bunker is C rations, the garden’s purpose is to supplement as much as possible with fresh produce.  This water reservoir was part of the original layout and is actually one of the reasons this location was first chosen, but the gardens weren’t.  The expansion that has been completed here in the last fifteen years is remarkable.  The horticulturist in charge has been on staff since the bunker transferred ownership.”

“It’s beautiful...”

“I do a lot of reading here.  The library is right over there.”  Mulder lead them through an opened cavern passage into a sealed area filled with individual workstations.  Several workstations were sealed in separate rooms toward the back.  A few modest seating areas were scattered throughout. 

Mulder led them to one of the separated workstations and had William sit down.  “It’s not your typical school, but everyone’s allowed to work at their own pace.”  Mulder walked William through the registration procedure as he continued to explain.  Diagnostic tests diagnose your strengths and weaknesses and a teacher adjusts the curriculum as needed to keep you on track.”

William put his palm flat to the screen to finish setting up a new account, and wondered what he might learn as the computer finished scanning his hand.


	8. Chapter 8

**VIII**

* * *

 

 

_“You are prepared to accept the truth aren't you, to sacrifice yourself to it?”_

\- Albert Hosteen, _Anasazi_

* * *

 

Mulder led them back through the winding corridors toward their quarters but detoured and led them up several levels until they stood beside a secured bulkhead layered with numerous sensors and cameras.  The young lieutenant trailed a polite distance behind.  Before Mulder could even enter a key code, a video screen activated on the opposing door and Melvin Frohike looked at them from behind horn-rimmed spectacles.  Time had never been kind to the older man and he looked no less bedraggled than before.  William was reminded of Benjamin Franklin. 

 

“Mulder!  It sure in Hell took you long enough!  Dana, it’s so lovely to see you again!  We’ve been deprived of the pleasure of your inspiring company far too long.” 

From the edge of the screen, Langly tilted his head sideways to view the monitor behind Frohike and Byers crowded in behind them both.  “Is that the bullfrog behind you?  Who’s the suit in the back?”

Mulder finally looked at Kevin, frowning.  “He’s staying out here.  Can we come in already?”

Byers reached for a lever.  “Of course, just a minute – wait for the blue light special!”  A series of hisses and pops ensued as numerous traps disarmed themselves and the bulkhead door swung open beneath a flashing blue light. 

Inside the tightly crammed compartment, surveillance equipment of every make and model lined shelves and labeled boxes.  Monitors connected to cameras outside and in filled the entire western wall.  Mulder and Scully both found themselves distracted by the cameras to the outside that showed utter destruction of the areas surrounding the former resort.  What had been a lush pine forest had been turned into a veritable wasteland.  It was hard to accept as reality. 

Byers flipped a switch and the external camera monitors turned off.  “Sorry, I guess we’ve grown callous to it.”

“Who was the soldier following you?”  Langly had never trusted anyone in authority.

“Actually, I’m hoping you fellas can help answer that question, or at least confirm the information I’ve already been given.” 

Melvin cracked his fingers eagerly as he moved to a console with security access.  “Shake the eight ball, Mulder.”

“I need you to find anything you may have on a Kevin Kryder here in the base.  Scully and I investigated an X-file surrounding his status as a stigmatic when he was a boy and now he’s purportedly serving as a soldier here.  Specifically, that man in the hallway claims it’s him and has convinced the Overseer to allow him to serve as a bodyguard for Will.  I need to know it’s not a setup.”

Scully stood flabbergasted as she remembered the kind boy who had such a tortured soul.  “Mulder?”

“It won’t surprise me if he’s actually just a spy sent to keep tabs on Will… and us.”

Frohike accessed the mainframe computer and had Kryder’s personnel file on screen in a matter of moments.  Scanning it quickly, nothing seemed out of place.  “According to this, he’s a combat medic, he’s been in three years, had just finished a tour in Afghanistan when he joined – former Special Forces.  That’s surprising, given what you said about his… condition.”

“So far he checks out.  Is there a way you can tell this isn’t planted information, too recent?”  At times like this, Mulder craved sunflower seeds.  Better than the cigarettes he used to crave in their stead.

“Sure, just give us some time, Mulder.  Meanwhile, we’ll watch him like a hawk.”  A fingerless-gloved hand indicated the wall of monitors.  “He won’t be able to take a shit without it being on film.”  Frohike paused, remembering he was now in more refined company.  “Sorry.  We’ll dig back a ways too and check up on him.”

Byers cleared his throat with a bit too much force.  “How about an introduction?”

William had been looking at all the electronic equipment in awe, but Mulder placed his hands on his shoulders and turned him to face the Gunmen.  “Will, allow me to introduce the Lone Gunmen.  They’re old friends of ours and we all owe them our lives.  They used to run an underground newspaper before they came here, hence the name.  John Byers, Ringo Langly, and Melvin Frohike.  Bastions of truth, justice, and the American way.” 

Byers smiled and shook William’s hand before the other two.  “We haven’t seen you since you were very little.  Look at how big you’ve got!”   

William groaned and rolled his eyes before he thought better of it.

Frohike couldn’t help but laugh.  “Looks like he’s a chip off the old block.  You’ll fit right in.  Say, if your old man ever gives you grief, I’ve got dirt.”  Frohike winked.  “Stay for dinner?  We’re making huevos rancheros with the last of the eggs!”  Melvin disappeared into a closet that was apparently doubling as a kitchen.

Mulder and Scully shared a look of indecision before Scully bumped William’s shoulder.  “Hungry?”

William nodded enthusiastically and that settled it.

If anything, it was better than the mess food, if only for the sake of Tobasco sauce and for the benefit of good company.  In honor of the reunion, several computers had been cleared from a table in the largest of the Gunmen’s limited quarters and a makeshift dinner table had been assembled.  As Frohike had prepared dinner, the others sorted through weeks of tape and Langly combed over server data looking for evidence of forgery.

It was a fruitless search, but the meal was good and the Gunmen reveled in sharing stories from their early days as associates of Mulder’s to his embarrassment and William’s amusement. 

“He was curled up in a ball on the cement,” Langly added.  The door sounded and Frohike was the first up to see who it was.

“Now it’s a party.”  He released the door controls and manual deadbolts to allow Walter Skinner and Gibson Praise to enter the room.  They joined the others around the table. 

Gibson had changed little through the years surprisingly, and stood no taller than he had the last Scully had seen him.  Though much of his hair had grown back and he appeared gaunt, his coke bottle glasses remained the same.  She wondered at the medical nature of his stature and if it was related to the horrible surgery that had been performed on him. 

While Gibson had heard her questions upon entering the room, it was the boy he was interested in.  This is the one the Overseer had intended as his replacement.  The boy who had _no_ idea what he was capable of.  Mulder and Scully’s son.

Skinner smiled as he laid eyes on William for the first time, and a secret part of him panged with regret for love unrequited just as another was full of pride for being one of the reasons this child was able to come to be.  The boy was the compact image of his parents, through and through, and he was happy that Dana could finally be reunited with the child that had meant so much to her.  They deserved happiness, in whatever form or shape it could take in this post-Apocalyptic wasteland.  He felt sorry for William as well, for the stress and expectation he knew would come to be placed on the boy as he matured into a man.  The Mulder name was not an easy one to bear.         

“Will,” Mulder pointed with his finger between bites, “meet Walter Skinner and Gibson Praise.  Gibson is an old friend and Director Skinner used to be our boss when we were feds on the X-Files.  He directs special forces here in the bunker, so technically I guess he’s still my boss – him and your Mother, anyway.”  Mulder winked at Scully and she gave him that look of absurd amusement he enjoyed eliciting.

William shook hands with Skinner, though he appeared lost in thought. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you after all this time, William.  Last I saw you, you were about this big.”  Skinner held his hands for effect.  “Your parents were my best agents, even if I felt like throttling them on occasion.”

“The X-Files?”

Skinner smiled and looked to his former colleagues to see if he was sharing something they preferred he didn’t.  “I’ll let you ask them about that later.  Anyway, it’s why we’re here now.”

“Gibson, do you know Kevin Kryder?  He’s a young soldier here.”  Mulder was impatient.

“I know you’re worried about him, but you’re more of a replacement than he is.  He‘s telling the truth.”

Scully sighed with relief though she didn’t care for Gibson’s phrasing.  The paranoia was taxing.

Mulder noticed William yawning and nudged to Scully to look.  William had been easily fatigued as his body dealt with his hyperactive brain.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse us, gentlemen, but it’s been a long day.” 

Scully made her rounds hugging her old friends and they all smiled at one another as they parted for the evening with the promise to gather again soon. 

Lights dimmed in the hallway as artificial night fell and Kryder joined their party silently as they returned to their cabin.  Mulder and Scully remained in the hall with Kryder while William went to get ready for bed. 

“Kevin, I had no idea it was you…  I just can’t believe you’re here.  You should have said something, you’re so hard to recognize beneath a beard like that.”  She hugged him as she had when he was a boy, squeezing him tight.  “I’ve wondered about you many times through the years and how you wound up.  I’m glad you’re here.”

Kevin smiled at her as he broke their embrace.  He had remembered looking up to the woman.  Now he towered over her.  “I told you I’d see you again.  I didn’t want to impose; it’s not why I’m here.  I knew you’d find out eventually.  Leave it up to Mr. Mulder here to uncover the truth.”

Mulder shook hands with the man he had treated so rudely.  “Just Mulder’s fine.  I’m sorry I was such an ass.  It’s just that… they mean everything to me, and I value their safety above anything else.  When I acted paranoid, it’s because I am.  Far too many people have tried to murder us through the years for me to be anything else.  I hope you can understand.”

“I do, sir.  It’s why I’m here.”

“Thank you, Kevin.  We’re grateful.  We‘ll have to catch up better when it‘s not so late.  Please excuse us.”  Scully smiled as she gripped Mulder’s arm and led them inside their quarters.

There was no set routine to their evening as they returned home and William was glad to retire early.  The impact of everything had taken its toll.  William was curled up on his cot when Scully entered his room carrying a now all-too familiar syringe of Phenytoin.  He wouldn’t be able to fall asleep without it.  Wordlessly, she pulled up his sleeve as he stared at her and cleaned his arm with an alcohol swab before she injected him with the solution.  She laid the back of her free hand against his forehead and didn’t like how high his temperature was running.  Worry etched her feature.

“Do you really think it will kill me?”  William searched Dana’s eyes as she cursed herself for not disguising her thoughts better. 

“No,” she lied, removing her hand from his arm.  She would not be able to have this conversation with her son, even if he could sense that she was lying.  “We’re going to do whatever we have to do so you get well.”

William laid his head back as he felt the drug’s immediate effects, but did not turn his eyes from Scully.  “What were the X-Files?” 

“What do you want to know about them?”

“I don’t know.  Will you tell me about them?”

Scully sighed and kicked off her shoes, not even sure where to begin.  “Well, they kept all the files that couldn’t be explained or solved under ‘U’ until they ran out room.  That’s when they started filing them under ‘X,’ hence the name.  Mulder first found them when he was working in the Violent Crimes department as a criminal profiler.  He had made a name for himself quickly and was on the quick track to a successful career until he started investigating cases his superiors weren’t fond of him checking out.”

“He was looking for his sister.”

“Yes…  Mulder became obsessed with solving X-Files he thought might lead him to her.  The only thing that saved him was a resourceful benefactor who allowed Mulder wide latitude with authority on the cases he chose to pursue.  Within the year that Mulder had begun his investigations into the paranormal, I was reassigned from my teaching position at Quantico to debunk his findings using my expertise in science.  With my background in hard science and medicine, I was assigned to be critical and to keep Mulder grounded.”  Scully smiled with the memory before she continued. 

“As fortune would have it, their plan backfired and I became as consumed with finding the truth as my partner.  I joined him reluctantly at first and he viewed me as a spy for a long time, but eventually, it became my life like it was his.  I’d be lying if I said I regretted getting involved and there’s little I’d change.  For all the terrible things I’ve endured, that we’ve experienced… it’s the sum of those experiences that has led me here to this moment with you, and for that I am grateful.  I love your father with all my heart, Will, just as I love you.  I wouldn’t trade either one of you for the world.”

William reflected momentarily on the unusual aspects of his upbringing and current situation.  All this time, he had been feeling sorry for himself and bitter over his loss, angry even, but he realized perhaps things had come out as they were meant to be and that he was luckier than most of the race.  These people had saved his life and whether their story was true or not, he understood that they cared for him a great deal.  “Do you believe in fate?”

“At one time, I wouldn’t have hesitated in saying no, but yes I do.”

“So you think everything that’s taken place, there’s a reason for it?”

“I think everything happens for a reason, yes.  I’m not sure what those reasons are, however.  Or who dictates them.”

“But you believe in God.”  William gestured at the cross that hung loosely around Dana’s neck.

“Yes.  I think God is the reason there are right reasons.  Do you?”

William had been raised by a devout Catholic family and had attended church regularly with his former family.  He almost answered automatically when the words caught in his throat.  His brain was struggling with the implications of everything that had happened to him in the last few weeks.  “I used to.  I don’t know if I do anymore…  Why would he let everyone die?  Why wouldn‘t he save mankind?”

“I don’t know.  He didn’t let us die.  He made sure we got back together.”

“I’m beginning to think it’s easier to believe in God when things work out in your favor.”

Scully frowned, speechless, unsure what to tell William regarding his crisis in faith.  It was then that Mulder popped his head in the door.  “Hey, mind if I join you?”

Scully sighed with relief and smiled at Mulder.  She was too tired to be sharing such a deep conversation and grateful he chose that moment to check on them.  She just wanted William to be able to rest.  He sat down on the bunk across from William’s and begun unlacing his boots.  “Can’t sleep?”

“The apple doesn’t fall from the tree,” Scully implied. 

“Insomnia runs in the family, I’m afraid.  But all the ginger jokes, you blame _her_ for that.”  Mulder lifted his feet up onto the bunk as his last boot popped off. 

William grinned.  “Dana was telling me about the X-Files.”

“Ah, the good _old’_ days,” Mulder smiled at the cliché.  “If it weren’t for the X-Files, we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.  In all likelihood you wouldn’t exist and Colonization would have been a much better success.  Scully and I uncovered the conspiracy that kept Colonization hidden from the public.  We tried to blow the whistle multiple times.”

“They tried to kill us multiple times,” Scully replied.

“To shut us up, to shut us down.”

“But it didn’t work.  We’re still here.”  Scully grinned. 

“Colonization had been slowly implemented over sixty-five years.  Who were we to stop it in ten?  It doesn’t mean that we’re giving up though…  Did you tell him about the fluke worm or the man-eating mushroom?  How about that time I found Big Blue?”

“Ugh…”  Scully rolled her eyes, “You really had to bring up the Flukeworm, didn’t you, and you did not find Big Blue.”

William’s eyebrows lifted.  “A man-eating mushroom?”

Mulder grinned.  “Lay back.  I’ll tell you a bedtime story that will spin your head.”


	9. Chapter 9

**IX**

* * *

 

_“In the desert_

_I saw a creature, naked, bestial,_

_Who, squatting upon the ground,_

_Held his heart in his hands,_

_And ate of it._

_I said, ‘Is it good, friend?’_

_‘It is bitter--bitter,’ he answered;_

_‘But I like it_

_Because it is bitter,_

_And because it is my heart.’_

\- Stephen Crane, _III_

* * *

 

It was the sun that Scully missed most of all as she worked with Dr. Threadgoode in the lab on a solution to William’s temporal lobe anomaly.  They had been working for two weeks solid and had produced a few remote theories, but nothing reliably concrete.  So much was conjecture and their knowledge of the brain primitive compared to the level of understanding she required.  She had never been able to procure files on Gibson or Mulder’s similar brain events and the doctors that had worked on both of them were in all likelihood dead.  They had been butchers anyway, and probably had little knowledge beyond what she herself or Threadgoode possessed.  Still the tension grew as they watched William’s condition gradually deteriorate and Scully found herself working all hours on the research they were attempting.  She needed resources they didn’t have. 

 

Mulder worried for them both and tried to comfort her each time she allowed herself a few hours of rest, crying herself to sleep or collapsing from exhaustion.  Other times she sat still and motionless, numb, thinking, and these times worried him even more as he felt her distress.  His helplessness in the situation had driven him to despair, but he did his best to bury it deep and stay strong.  He had shed tears before Scully once over their son’s condition once, blaming himself in a moment of weakness, but reformed his resolve once he realized the crippling effect it had on her morale.  While he shared everything with Dana, this was one experience that threatened to overwhelm them both and he couldn‘t bear to add to her grief with his own or see her spirit broken.  Nightmares plagued them both. 

William slept little now and occupied his extended waking hours reading anything Mulder or anyone else brought him.  He had attended school all of four days before his body had begun to fail him again as his brain defied medication.  It took everything in his power to concentrate on the book he was reading and turn the pages, but it allowed him to focus on something other than the voices he heard so loudly now.  The voices threatened to overwhelm his own thoughts and it made him want to scream.  He cried sometimes, but never when anyone was near.  He intimately understood the affect his illness was having on his newfound guardians, and he felt embarrassed to be a source of guilt and such a burden on them.  He knew they cared for him and loved him, but they could not stop the voices or the pain. 

The sense of impending death loomed over him again as he found it more and more difficult to commit the most basic functions.  It filled him with a rage he could not comprehend, his perceived injustice for why he had been singled out for such misery and pain.  It wasn’t fair.  He was too young to die, just a boy.  A Wyoming rancher’s son transplanted to Virginia at that, who suffered bad headaches now and then, but nothing the doctors at the neurological center had not been able to treat.  How could this really be happening to him, and wasn’t it really a dream he would wake up from surrounded by his family, safe in his bed at home?

While Mulder & Scully had attempted to bolster his spirits, their obvious feelings of anguish wreaked havoc on him when they were near and William withdrew from everyone.  The only one he could stand to be near was Gibson who helped filter the voices and understood what he was dealing with.  Gibson had no voice and he made some of the other voices go away.  The last weeks had bonded their friendship between the strange but kindred spirits and William had come to trust him like a brother he had never had.  Gibson had come to enjoy William’s company as well but appeared more pale and gaunt than ever.  It seemed the two shared their prognosis among other things.

Gibson broke it to William as gently as he could; worried the boy was growing too attached to him.

“I’m dying, Will.  And not because of my brain, but because of what was done to my brain a long time ago.  Bad men from the government operated on me and took a part of my brain out.  Mulder and Scully saved me, but it was an important part of the brain that helps regulate hormones, so my body can’t do that now.  It’s why I look like this, and it’s killing me.”

“Doesn’t anybody know?  Can’t anyone do anything to help you?”  William was devastated by the news and he struggled to slur the words beyond his uncooperative lips.  Gibson was his friend and a valued confidante.  Why did everyone he grew close to wind up dead or dying? 

“Dr. Threadgoode knows, but he could only help me so much.  I would probably already be gone if it weren’t for him.  Your Mom wanted to help me too, but she doesn’t know anything more than he does.  There’s still too much about the brain that‘s not understood, especially ones like yours and mine.  I asked them not to tell anyone else, because I don‘t want anyone to pity me, but I know a few people suspect what‘s happening.”

William frowned, unsure what to say.  He stared at his friend, broken-hearted.

“I’m getting weaker and weaker Will, every time I wake up.  I can feel myself slipping and I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be around.  There’s a lot I need to tell you and you need to listen closely.“  He leaned closer for emphasis, needing desperately to impart his point.  “You’re a special kid, Will, more than you know or can comprehend.  Everything these people are trying to do – it can’t succeed without you.  Do what they need you to do to help them, even if it means risking your life.  You’ve got to fight for our planet, our right to live on it, and our right to live as free men, not slaves… It’s a noble cause, one your parents are all the other people here are prepared to sacrifice their lives for.  Your banner must be that of humanity.  You can’t be a child anymore… accept who you are and embrace it.  Don’t wallow in pity or ego-gratification about your self-importance, but consider yourself unique and fortunate that you are the person who can affect the outcome of this war.”

Gibson saw William was confused by what he was saying so he reached out and grabbed his hand.  The boy was still too young and immature to understand let alone shoulder such a burden. 

“High demands are never levied on those who cannot bear them.  If you survive it all and I know you, Will, the reward will be worth it.”

William wasn’t sure what to say.  Gibson couldn’t really be dying and nothing he was saying could really be true.  It was crazy.  He wanted to grip Gibson’s hand but his twitched in response and lay useless by his side.

“You’re going to get better Will, and once I’m gone the Overseer will ask you to serve as my replacement as Watchman.” 

_‘Watchman?’_

“Eyes and ears in here.  Keeping the pulse.  Discovering anyone who is doing things they should not be.  I know you don‘t believe me now, but you’re going to find out.” 

_‘He’s going to ask me to spy?’_

“I never thought of it like that - think that you’re helping everyone by keeping people honest, serving like a justice of the peace.  I’m telling you this so you can be ready, Will.  It should not have happened yet; you’re still too young to take on the responsibility… but I’m not going to be around to help you until you’re ready.  Do not question it, even though you will.  Don’t think too much, it will save your life.  Process and react.  You have the ability already.  You were born with it and once your brain sorts itself out, you‘ll be able to focus it.  Think about what I’ve said a while and I‘ll stop in later again to see you.  We can talk more then.”

Gibson said a silent a goodbye and left to lay down a while, fatigued, leaving Will to process everything he had said.  The boy would have given a lot in that moment just to be able to curl around his pillow. 

Could things really get any worse?

_As he fell into oblivion, the world turned black and white.  Standing on the beach, he saw that he had just finished destroying the first sand mound with the others who had come to help them.  Smiling, the others congratulated each other as William found himself distracted by the ocean.  Seeing the other sand mounds from the corner of his eye, he didn’t understand why they weren’t more concerned.  They couldn’t see what he could, the large dark mass beneath the waves.  What was buried and why couldn’t he understand what it was?_

Mulder was drunk.  Again.  He had spent a lot of time in that condition lately, and though he hid it from William and from Scully, his hours at “work” were mostly spent sobbing to Skinner or the Gunmen with a bottle of Frohike’s reserve in hand.  His part in the “plan” had yet to come, the operation had been set in motion, and even sober, there would have been little to do but wait.  Wait and watch helplessly as his son lay dying and his other half self-destructed trying to find a cure to save him.  Driving his self-loathing even further, Scully had informed him that morning that their supply of Phenytoin was quickly running out.  He had no idea what to do, how to help, and guilt wracked him.  It wasn’t something they could just produce themselves.

Frohike, sitting across from him on an overturned box in the Gunmen’s lair, gently took the bottle from his hand.  Mulder didn’t seem to notice.  “This is all my fault…  Look what I’ve done to them.”  Frohike wasn’t sure if Mulder had been addressing him or the wall.

“I think you’ve had enough, Mulder.  Look, you’ve got to stop doing this.  Quit feeling sorry for yourself.  Dana wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you, and neither would William for that matter.  Stop thinking that everything is on you.”

“I’m cursed, Melvin.  We’re both cursed.  By the darkness… I’m such a sorry son-of-a-bitch.  I should have never said yes, but how could I say no?”

Frohike stood up, frustrated.  “What the hell are you talking about, Mulder?  Scully would kick your ass right now if she saw you like this.  Maybe I should kick your ass.”  Frohike had no idea what Mulder was babbling about at this point but was ready to make good on the threat.  Byers and Langly shared worried glances with each other across the room, arms crossed. 

Langly cleared his throat.  “Tell him, Doohickey.”

“Shut up.” 

Langly jutted his chin forward after Frohike leveled him with a glare over his shoulder.  Mulder lifted his head from where he had been resting it between his knees.  “Tell me what?”

“Shit.  Way to go, Goldilocks.  He actually heard you.”

“Just give it up.  It will make him fe-,” The door intercom buzzer sounded.  Byers moved to the monitor and allowed the visitor to enter. 

Skinner grimaced once he saw how intoxicated Mulder was.  He came over to stand in front of his old friend, frowning as he evaluated his state.  “Jesus, Mulder, pick yourself up.  You look like shit…  Look at me.”

Lifting his head slowly and deliberately, Mulder glared at Skinner.

“Does the name Jeremiah Smith ring a bell for you?  It should.”

“Yeah,” Mulder rubbed his temples, knowing he was in for a hell of a hangover, unsure how well he was speaking.  “He, uh… disappeared a long time ago.  He was an alien who…”

“With a peculiar gift for healing,” Skinner finished for him, cutting him short.  “He’s resurfaced with another group of survivors two hundred klicks from here and he’s willing to come here to help William and Gibson.  _But_ he won’t come unless we can get him here and keep him alive.  So pick yourself up, sober up, and pack your gear.  You are I are leaving come nightfall.”   

The look of surprise that crossed Mulder‘s face was beyond expression.  “There‘s no way that can be true.  He‘s been missing for over a decade.”

“How did you find him?  We had all thought he was dead.”  Byers was shocked.

“I didn’t find him, he found us.  I received a communication from the group he‘s staying with just before I came here.  Don‘t ask me to explain it, because I can‘t.  I just know it‘s a risk I think we need to take.  If these things need heat, if they‘re like reptiles, between the blizzard yesterday and traveling by night, it might not be as suicidal as it sounds.”

Mulder lifted his hand and allowed Skinner to help him to his feet.  “Thanks…  I’m sorry I’m like this.  I’ll get ready.”

“Meet me at the armory as soon as you’re ready.  We don‘t have much time to plan this out.“  Skinner nodded and left to make preparations.  Mulder turned to the door.  “Help me, fellas?” 

Frohike and Langly were helping Mulder gather gear into a backpack when Scully entered their rooms, bleary-eyed and pale.  Her exhaustion dampened her emotional response to the scene before her, though she assumed the worse.  “You’re leaving us?”

“No.  Never.”  Mulder stood up from where he had been sitting packing the bag, and his head throbbed in warning.  He slid the bag slowly over his shoulders to adjust the straps and weight.  “Jeremiah Smith, the healer.  Skinner was contacted by a group claiming he’s staying with them.  We’re going to go for him tonight and bring him here to heal William and Gibson and anyone else he’s willing to help.”

Scully had difficulty remembering many of the obscure references Mulder made to their days on the X-Files, but Smith’s name was one she could hardly forget.  Her heart raced with hope as she recalled his amazing ability to heal people but she dreaded the prospect of Mulder leaving the safety of the bunker with Skinner.  The bunker that wasn’t supposed to reopen for six months.  “When were you planning on informing me about this?”

Sensing the escalating tension in the room, Langly and Frohike excused themselves under the pretense of obtaining some rations for Mulder’s trip.  It was obvious the last few weeks had taken its toll on their old friends and that they needed to hash things out.

Alone in the room together, Mulder continued packing the bag as Scully regarded him with silence, considering her thoughts.

“Skinner just talked to me.  I know everything you’re going to say already Dana, but if there’s even a small chance it’s him and he can help William and Gibson, I have to go.  You know that already, and even if you decide to argue with me, I know you’ll agree.”

Scully sighed with exhaustion and defeat, wanting him both to go and not to go.  “I won’t argue with you about this.  But I don’t think I’ll manage if something happens to you.  The thought of you going alone makes me sick.  You have no idea what you‘re going to encounter out there.” 

“But we know what will happen _in here_ if something can’t be done soon.”

Scully frowned as tears formed, pushing the idea from her thoughts.  She couldn’t bear to think about it.  Mulder slid the bag back off of his shoulders, sealing each area shut once he made adjustments. 

“How do you think you’re going to be able to protect him, Mulder?  Do you remember what happened when you tried to take him to heal your Mother?”

“Things were different then.  I was different then.  I can’t stand sitting here helplessly as you torture yourself trying to do something to save him.  What if this is our last best shot?  Unless you’ve had some miracle breakthrough in the last few hours, I have to go try.”

Scully bit her lip and closed her eyes.  ‘ _This is not happening.’_

A pager device attached to her hip interrupted her thoughts.  “What’s that for?”  Mulder gestured.

“It’s Threadgoode.”

With a shared look, they ran for the infirmary. 

Threadgoode gestured at William’s bed as Mulder and Scully entered the room quickly.  “He’s slipped back into a vegetative state like before, but if it’s as you described Mulder, then he’s completely aware.” 

Before them, covered in sweat and wide-eyed, William stared beyond them at the wall, propped up on several pillows.  Threadgoode resumed the process of attaching a feeding tube. 

“When did he become unresponsive?  I just left.”  Scully looked over the monitors for a sign of change.

“Just as I paged you.  I was in here working and Kevin noticed him drift away.”

“He was there reading, and he began gargling…”

Mulder left his hands come to rest on William’s temples and bent to kiss his forehead. 

_‘I’m going for someone who can heal you.  Son, I love you.  Forgive me, Will.’_

William showed no response, but Mulder felt him underneath. 

“I’m going to meet Skinner…”  Mulder reached for Scully’s hand and she met him as they embraced and briefly kissed.  He pulled away, reluctant to pass any more time before departing, but Scully held tight to his hand.  “Mulder… Fox, wait.”  Quickly, she unclasped the gold chain cross from around her neck and fastened it around his, whispering in his ear.  “I’m going to need this back.  I love you.”

“Thanks for the loan.”  Bending, he quickly kissed her again and looked into her eyes before pulling away.  “Love you, Scully.  Always.”

She watched him turn and set off for the armory, afraid she may never see him again.  Then she steeled herself and set to helping Threadgoode.


	10. Chapter 10

**X**

* * *

 

_“I can conceive of no nightmare as terrifying as establishing such communication with a so-called superior or, if you wish, advanced technology in outer space.”_

\- Issac Asimov, NASA Symposium Boston University, November 20, 1972, _Gethsemane_

* * *

 

In the armory, Skinner was checking weapons and had body armor and extra gear laid out for both of them.  Frohike and Langly brought them the dry rations while the vehicle was being prepped with extra fuel and water.  Skinner debated taking a third wingman but thought he and Mulder might do better on their own.  They quickly outfitted themselves and met the few soldiers stocking their Jeep in the garage.  They would leave the bunker the same way Mulder and Scully had entered a few short weeks ago.  A young soldier passed a sheet of paper to the senior officer wordlessly, and with a nod to his men, Skinner turned the ignition and took them into the unknown. 

Mulder had never appreciated non-artificial light or non-recycled air the way that living in the bunker had taught him.  His senses seemed to come alive as he breathed fresh air for the first time in over a month and the irony of the images meeting his eyes as they drove up the ramp into the world were not lost on him.  While the resort had been leveled in an attack several days after they had arrived, it had been easy to deny as the explosions barely affected the bunker deep below.  Only the grainy still images Mulder had seen the day they visited the Gunmen gave any view of what the outside world had looked like in the aftermath of the destruction. 

What met his eyes now was real, and the beautiful dark blue sky punctuated with stars and constellations, scenic white clouds, freshly fallen snow, and breath-taking moonlight stood in stark contrast against the decimated ruins of the resort that had served as the bunker’s cover for decades.  It disappeared behind them slowly as Walter deciphered where the road was beneath the snow.  Fortunately, the blizzard had only dumped a few inches on the ground and it laid in a soft powder that contoured to the ground.  The Jeep would have no trouble navigating as long as Skinner could keep them out of a ditch and on the road. 

From the dash where he had laid it, Skinner shoved the hand-drawn map with directions into Mulder’s hands.  “This came from intelligence and it’s our guide to Smith.  Help me navigate.”

“How sophisticated.”  Mulder examined the paper closely, committing it to memory as he drank from the bottle of water he had brought with him.  “Technology these days knows no bounds.”  Though his adrenaline was now pumping, he still felt miserable.  “Do you really think we stand a chance out here or was all that stuff you said about the snowfall and traveling by night just some happy bullshit you made up to make it sound less suicidal?”

Skinner glared at him momentarily before turning his eyes back to the road.  “Christ, Mulder, how the hell should I know?  I hope it wasn‘t.  You think this is some joy ride for me?  You think I want to be out here?  You‘re out of your goddamned mind.”  He shot Mulder a look of disdain.  “Truth is… I’m scared shitless.  Happy now?”

“Sorry.”  Mulder looked out the window, wishing there was something that out there that could return his lost sense of hope. 

The journey was slow as Skinner crept along; petrified he would puncture the tires on some debris he would not be able to spot.  He did not know if they would manage to keep the vehicle the entire way to the other compound, but the further they could use it the less they would have to travel on foot.  While the former Marine was fit for his age, he was sixty and his joints no longer cooperated the way they once did. 

They traveled all night, switching once Skinner grew tired of driving and Mulder appeared sober enough to.  They spoke little, concentrating on watching the road and for anything that moved.  With an automatic rifle perched against one leg, Skinner noted the deer and a bear they saw and how the hunting opportunity might have been some dream of his when he was a boy.  That they were not skittish to their presence concerned Skinner, as it meant there were not any survivors in the area using them as a resource.  He hoped their deaths had been quick and painless.  Noting the absence of any otherworldly predators, perhaps their local impact with the altered bees had been better than he dared hoped.  Alternatively, the Colonists may have already killed anyone left in the area and moved on.  Their new age was one of uncertainty. 

Nearly every building they passed had been razed and they had to improvise and divert several times when the road became impassible due to a fallen tree or cars blocking the route.  It added several long hours to their journey that neither of them wanted to waste.  They both feared that even if they were successful in bringing the healer to the bunker, they might only arrive too late.  Mulder did not want to think of the possible consequences that would bear for him, Scully, or to their relationship.  If Skinner’s intelligence was correct, they had a few more hours until they reached their destination and would arrive there in the early hours of the morning.  Distance and time had become everything in post-Apocalyptico. 

“We need to stop and refill the gas.”  The diversion around the roadblocks had cost them valuable fuel.  Fortunately, they were prepared for the likelihood.  The irony was not lost on Mulder as he pulled into the remains of a gas station to complete the task and half-chuckled at the realization.  “I guess old habits die hard, huh.”  Outside, the sun was just cresting the horizon.

Skinner took his rifle and headed for the building still half-intact.  “I’m going to take a piss and see what’s left.”

Mulder chuckled at the unintended double-entendre as he removed one of fuel containers from the back of the vehicle.  If they weren’t in such a rush, he would see about pumping some from the gas storage tanks beneath them, but that would take extra time they didn‘t have.  They could return in the future, he hoped, if needed.  “Don’t get your hopes up too high, old man.  Hey, grab me some sunflower seeds if you see any!”

Skinner waved Mulder a single-finger salute over a shoulder as he disappeared behind the station.

Entering the small convenience store, Skinner grabbed the small entry bells taped to the top of the door and held the rifle in front of him as he visually searched for anything extraordinary.  It was then he saw the eyes peek from behind a sandwich-counter toward the back of the building and immediately disappear again.  While the gaping hole in the roof had allowed some sunlight and snow to filter in, the light was still too dim to tell exactly what he saw. 

“Who’s there?” he bellowed.  Every fiber of his body was on high alert and he briefly flashed back to a time when he confronted a young boy in the streets of Vietnam.  He pushed the images from his thoughts and focused on the point where he had seen the eyes.  “Come out with your hands up!  I know you’re back there!”  He waited, but nothing moved.  ‘ _Shit.’_

Slowly, cautiously, he approached the entrance behind the counter with the rifle raised.  Then he saw it.  The girl screamed bloody murder at him at the top of her lungs as she tried to climb over the countertop, but Walter grabbed her by the arms before she could escape, dropping his weapon in the process.  As he restrained her, he heard Mulder crash through the entrance coming to his aid.  “Skinner!”

“It’s okay, Mulder!  It’s just a girl!”

The girl fought him ferociously, but she was small and Skinner spun her into a pressure hold easily.  “Calm down, it’s okay!  We’re not going to hurt you!”

Mulder joined them and surveyed the carnage on the body that lay nearby.  The person had been infected with the virus and had incubated.  The remains of the woman had been covered with a blanket. 

Mulder bent down in front of the girl, the lone survivor they had encountered after hours of traveling.  “Is that your Mother?”  He had gathered as much as soon as he saw the way the body had been paid attention to so kindly, but was hoping the girl might add additional information.

The girl, appearing seven or eight, nodded, crying silently. 

“I’m sorry… How long ago did this happen?  Is it still around?”

The girl shook her head no, refusing to speak.  She appeared to be in shock. 

Cautiously, Skinner released the hold and took her firmly by the hand as he retrieved his rifle.  The girl, still silent, appeared to want to go to her Mother and avoid her at the same time.  “Come on.  You should come with us.  We‘ll take you where it’s safe.” 

Mulder quickly took a bag from the sandwich stand and grabbed some snacks and drinks.  He filled another with assorted items for bartering.  His heart leapt when he found a rack with sunflower seeds and those wound up in a third bag.  As he joined Skinner in the Jeep, he saw the girl was wrapped in his blanket on the back seat and that Skinner had turned the heat up.  She faced away from them, and there would be little that could be done for her until they arrived back at the compound.  Mulder had already popped open the first bag of seeds and had one between his teeth.  The crack it made when he split it open gave him the finest kind of satisfaction.

“You’re terrible, Mulder.”

Looking innocent, rooting through his hoard, Mulder seemed indifferent to his admonition.  “Root beer?”

It was almost noon when they finally reached the other compound.  Jeremiah Smith waited for them near the outer gates.  Skinner, driving again, had hoped to have the girl looked at by someone with medical training but could see now the people running this group of survivors were not nearly as organized as they were.  Guards stood in camouflaged makeshift towers armed with shotguns.  It gave Skinner an uneasy feeling he didn’t like and his finger tightened around the trigger of the gun concealed beneath the dashboard.

“Unless you’ve come with something to trade, we’re not to let you in!”

Mulder stepped slowly from the vehicle, arms clearly where the guards could see him unarmed.  “We’ve only come for Smith.  If you have any antiepileptic meds, I’ve got some items to trade.”

“You! Stay right there!  We’ve heard about you!  We know you’re one of them!  One step closer and I’ll blow your neck out!”  The guard was but a kid, sorely lacking in the maturity department, scared shitless, and extremely dangerous.  His face reminded Mulder of Darin Oswald, and Mulder estimated that he couldn’t be much older, if not younger than the hellion had been when he and Scully had dealt with him long ago.  “We don’t have any… whatever you said.”

Mulder froze and Jeremiah made his way quickly to the Jeep joining the young girl in the back.  Mulder got back in the vehicle slowly once Jeremiah shut the door.

“Please, speed away from here.”  Jeremiah looked horrified. 

Disgusted by the treatment they received, Skinner turned the Jeep around and tore out on the tracks they had made coming in.   

“We need an explanation, Smith.  Why now?  After all this time?  Why here?  I need you to make it make sense for me.”  Mulder sounded desperate.  “My son is laying in a bed dy-”  A brief whistling distracted him overhead before a giant fireball engulfed the area of the former compound.  They had traveled less than half a mile but the shock wave from the explosion rattled the vehicle’s windows and frame as it passed.  Mulder lowered the window for a clearer view of the destruction behind them and couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of the destruction behind them.  “Step on the gas, Skinner!”

“Why? What‘s happening?”  Skinner, eyes on the road, had only seen a glimpse of the explosion in the rear-view mirror and the reflection of the glare from the windshield.  He hadn’t seen the ship that materialized above their recent location. 

“Bad company!”

Skinner floored the accelerator, pushing the Jeep to its threshold.  The snow had begun to melt as the morning Sun warmed the earth, and Skinner fought to keep the vehicle from fish-tailing in the slush.   

“We have to lose them!”

Jeremiah suddenly had him by the shoulders and Walter felt an exotic tingle travel down his spine.  “They’re tracking us using the nanites in your bloodstream.  They have used you to find me!”

“What the hell are you doing?“  The Jeep swerved left as Skinner reacted to the foreign touch before he was able to correct its path.  “I’m trying to drive!” 

“Concentrate on the road then!  I am healing you.  They will not be able to track us then.”

The stretch of road blew up behind them.  The little girl began silently sobbing as chunks of asphalt rained down on the roof of the vehicle.  Mulder ducked back inside, covering his head instinctively.  While the road was now easier to discern, it offered little in options for evasive maneuvers.

“I’m open to any suggestions, people!”  Skinner briefly debated driving them off the road into the woods.

"The forest!”  Mulder pointed to a roadside sign pointing out the wonders of the nearby George Washington National Forest.  While the route they had taken to the other compound had mostly kept them out of the woods, it might serve as their saving grace now.  The sky had turned a murky dark grey, the ship now blocked from their view.  "Go south!”  The first large pines loomed in the distance.  "It's the best option we have!"

Deep below the remains of the Greenbrier Resort, Scully mentally reviewed surgical procedures for the temporal lobe as she silently sat with William and Gibson.  Gibson had collapsed in his room earlier and was brought to join his young friend in the infirmary.  Other than trying to keep him comfortable, Scully was afraid there was nothing she could do and that he had little time left.  She had argued with Threadgoode over surgery, but while there were clinical trials being performed on stem-cell therapies and even brain prosthetics, neither had access to any of the advanced materials or equipment needed to even consider or attempt such a procedure.  Too much of the boy's brain had been removed in that botched operation long ago, and the young man would die for it as his body quit acknowledging the synthetic hormones that Threadgoode had been treating him with.  The injustice filled Scully with rage, and she wondered hopelessly if she would need to perform some similar procedure soon on William just to buy him time, and at what terrible cost to his mind and body.

She did not know if she could handle operating on her own son, didn't think her hands could possibly remain steady.  Though Threadgoode was an amazing doctor, he was far beyond his prime as an operating surgeon.  Brain surgery was such a delicate, risky procedure and so much could go wrong, so very easily.  One small slip could result in the loss of higher mental facilities, so much as the ability to tell right from wrong.  She couldn't possibly bring herself to play a game of hide-and-go-seek with her son's frontal lobe, could she, even if it could save his life or delay the unthinkable?  Images of a younger Gibson with his head shaved and stitched shut flooded her brain.  Scully shook her head without meaning to.  She could never risk harming his beautiful, intelligent mind the way that Gibson's had been butchered.

Absently, her hand traveled to her neck where her cross usually laid, and her thoughts turned to Mulder.  Always thinking of Mulder.  Was that why God was forsaking her now?  ‘ _Where are you, Mulder?’_ She prayed for his and Skinner's safety and that they would be able to bring Jeremiah back in time to help.  She prayed for William and Gibson, she prayed for a miracle.  She prayed for God to listen.

Evading the best he could, Skinner sped them toward the opening of the forest on the off-ramp he had taken toward its entrance.  He couldn't help but feel they were being toyed with.  An explosion ripped the ground apart directly behind them and the vehicle was literally pushed into the dark cover of the woods as the road narrowed.  The glass window of the back hatch shattered from the force and they landed so hard on the front two wheels that the vehicle felt like it bounced forward.  The force of the impact pushed them dangerously close to the guard rail over-hanging a thickly veiled mountainside but Skinner narrowly managed to keep them from going over.  For now, they were hidden.  Jeremiah lost his grip on Skinner as they shot forward, but regained it and resumed his silent ministrations.

Mulder, beyond pale and amazed at his friend's driving abilities, was thankful to be alive.  Regaining his sense of momentum, he gaped with the realization that it was not snow falling from the now-black sky illuminated by their headlights, but ash.

Their pursuers had either been forced to turn back or were watching them silently as they continued through the forest.  The feeling of not knowing was unnerving and a reminiscent sense of paranoia descended, twisting a knot in Mulder's stomach.  He turned in his seat so he could directly evaluate Smith who was resting against the seat, exhausted with the conclusion of his healing work.

"As I was saying earlier before we were so rudely interrupted, why now?  Why there, at that compound?  You disappear eleven years ago and now you're suddenly back and ready to help out?  I think you're a few years too late!”  Mulder heard his voice rising with anger but didn't care.

Smith seemed unmoved, nonchalant.  "I have been on the run, Mr. Mulder.  I think you understand how that works.  I came to the compound because it was the closest my ship could travel to the magnetite source that rests below the Springs and the surrounding forest.  It is the real reason the bunker was built there and that this area was designated for your leaders.  It is also the reason why it has escaped the annihilation you just saw executed on those innocents.  The ships cannot get close to it.  If they could, none of you would be alive."

"That's not true.  The resort has been destroyed," Mulder replied.

"It was, but not by the Colonists.  The clones can travel where the Colonists cannot using your own armed forces against you.  Other hybrids and replacements, like yourself."

"My name's Mulder, you bastard.  I'm not anyone’s replacement."

"Not yet and only thanks to Dana Scully, but she was only able to prevent the final part of the transformation.  If the right virus were to be reintroduced to your system, you would be theirs in a very short amount of time, despite your immunity to the other viral agent.  I am back as I was before at the risk of my own safety because I believe in your Resistance and what it stands for.  Annihilation was wrought on my own race in a similar destruction, and I will do what I can now to assist in the fight against them.  Right now, that means making sure your son survives."

Mulder felt himself sigh as his anger began to abate.  “I know my son is special, but from the time he was conceived he’s been sought after by groups I never even knew existed.  Just what is it in him they want?”

The otherwise infallible healer seemed stunned for a moment.  “The nature of the prophecy… certainly you have seen it as he has matured.  True telepathy, telekinesis, and the prospect of much more.  More human than human, as human as the first souls who walked this planet, before the great extinctions.  The warning was written on the ships for you to find.

You are aware that the Census Bureau had been tracking individuals with certain genetic codes over time, targeting certain strains for experimentation.  The Project had multiple facets.  You have seen the evidence in the clone chattel.  You have also seen alien-human hybrid supersoldiers, much like yourself.  There are also the replacements, husks of bodies now controlled and kept alive by the Purity virus itself.  These elements of the Project were with the Colonists, an effort to ensure that both species would survive, one in service to the other.”  

“While others used the time bought to research a vaccine,” Mulder added.  “Men like my father who wanted to resist and fight the future.”

“Yes.  While the Purity virus was the original inhabitant of this planet, it was not the pillaging war machine it has evolved into.  The prophecy spoke of one who could lead life on this planet to a new age if a certain fail-safe were to be tripped, entrusted to history by the ancients who could not foresee the results of their own experiment in spreading their offspring through the universe.  We are in what so many of your kind call the Apocalypse.  Some of you would call it the Sixth Extinction.  Nahui Ollin, Yawm ad-Dīn, Ragnarök.  It has many names.”

“What failsafe?” Mulder had embraced some intense conspiracy theories in the past, but the depth and breadth of what Smith was telling him perplexed him.

Smith shook his head.  “I wish I knew, but that is why your son must live.”

Even as a fine layer of ash accumulated inside the vehicle, their detoured route took them deep into the forest on a southbound course before they were able to turn west and follow another former highway back toward their new home.  They were almost derailed once when a large pine laid across most of the road, but Skinner was able to skirt the edge of the road toward its higher branches and was able to coax the Jeep across the obstacle.  Shortly thereafter though the vehicle became inoperable, the gas line severed by the debris they had been covering.

Mouths and noses covered by makeshift cloth breathing masks, Skinner and Mulder bent to examine the broken line to see if there would be anyway to repair it long enough to get them home.  They were less than fifteen miles from the base but visibility was reduced severely by whatever disaster had taken place.  They hadn't taken time to speculate, busy navigating the camouflaged landscape until their latest mishap.  The ash had coated everything by this point, making the Earth before them appear a dark blizzard.  It did not take them long to realize the car was done for now.  Mulder swore, kicking the broken vehicle in rage.

Unloading what essentials they could carry as quickly as they could, they set off toward the base on foot along the highway relying on a flashlight, Skinner's compass, and Mulder's sense of dead reckoning.  Few words had passed between them, but Skinner needed to distract himself from his disillusioned joints.

"What do you think happened?"

"An attack, maybe?  But really, what buildings are left that would be worth destroying?"   Mulder examined some of the ash on his hands as closely as his own flashlight would allow.  The girl and Jeremiah trudged slowly behind them hand-in-hand.  "It's fine but coarse.  Could be volcanic.”

"Seriously, Mulder.”  Skinner thought his old friend was jesting.  There were no volcanoes in this part of the country.

"What do you think it is, then?"

"No idea.  Wildfire, perhaps.  Don't get me wrong, Mulder, I'd prefer your theory if I had to choose.  I just don't think it's likely.”  The older man briefly removed the t-shirt he was wearing as a facemask to douse it with water.

Behind them, Jeremiah tried to calm the young girl who was crying silently again.  Ash-stained tears rolled down her cheeks.  "Let us talk about something else," he implored. 

Silence overtook them again as the temperature fell and actual night made their navigation home that much more difficult.  Mulder was determined they would not rest until they made it back to the base.  Wet t-shirts would only do so much to filter the fine particles they were breathing into their lungs.


	11. Chapter 11

**XI**

* * *

 

_“There are extraordinary men... those who must identify... comprehend, and ultimately shoulder the responsibility for not only their own existence, but their countries, and the world's as well. Your father, Captain... believed his country should look to another form of government, and he took control of that belief. So, in that respect, we view him as an extraordinary man. And we believe... we know, Captain... that it runs in the family.”_

\- General Francis, _Musings of A Cigarette-Smoking Man_

* * *

 

_Black eyes beheld him in simple curiosity from the edge of the beach.  William felt he was staring at a child from some long ago ancient age.  There was no real indication, just a feeling.  Smiling at him, the boy turned and disappeared into the thick tall grass that gave way to jungle.  Looking around and seeing no one else, William ran to catch up, curiosity piqued by the strange boy with the dark eyes.  He paid no attention to the flimsy hospital gown he wore, but ran with abandon as the boy outpaced him along the slim path that wound deep into the forest.  Seeing the boy crest over a hill that opened to glorious view, William tore after him only to have his shoulders grabbed as he nearly launched himself over the edge of a tall cliff that gave way to a large valley.  The hands that pulled him back were not those of a boy however, but of an older man who smelled like acrid smoke._

_“Such fire for one so young.  I really admire that about you, but my, so reckless.  It bespeaks your lineage… a line of extraordinary men.”_

_William jolted from the man’s near embrace and backed away toward the direction he had come, unsure who this character was, but sure that he could not be trusted.  Tripping, he fell backwards and looked up at the man, prone.  Where was the boy that had led him here?_

_“Distrustful as well, I see.  So typical.  Aren‘t you curious to see what’s down there?”_

_William looked beyond the man to the valley below for the first time noting the series of three large stepped pyramids that segmented the distant lake in a familiar pattern he could not place.  Had he been here before?_

_A wizened hand extended down to him.  “Take my hand, William.  You have to take the first step.”_

**GREENBRIER RESORT CONGRESSIONAL BUNKER**

**White Sulphur Springs, West Virginia**

**February 13, 2013**

**4:21 p.m.**

_‘You invite all who are burdened to come to You.  In this hour of great need, touch my mind with Your wisdom, and allow Your healing hand to guide my own._

_Touch gently this life which You have created, now and forever.  Amen.’_

Scully prayed silently as the autoclave whirred through its sterilization procedure.  She thought the prayer might help calm her shaking hands, but it was apparent to her that she had no solutions.  There was no manual for such surgeries, and any exploratory procedure she attempted would be a shot in the dark.  She had never felt so hopeless, so disconnected from her faith.  She had already lost a child.  How could she bear to lose another?  How could God account for it? 

Anger at the cruelty welled up inside her and for her lack of knowledge.  _Don’t forsake me now._ Unsure if she was attempting to command her mind or God, she closed her eyes and began to ignore the emotional tirades battling across her mind.  She needed to be calm and rational and she needed to act.  Removing the instruments from the device, she placed them on a tray.  If nothing else, she rationalized, she would be able to alleviate some of the intracranial pressure that she had watched build behind the walls pushing on his brain.  Already spiking to dangerous levels, it would not take long for it to cause serious brain damage or lead to a hemorrhage.

Looking to the sink, Scully set the tray down and turned on the tap before she began lathering her hands in suds.  Where was Mulder?  It had been well over twenty-four hours since he had left with Skinner to find Jeremiah Smith.  Scenarios involving their murder and dismemberment began stealing into her thoughts and she shook her head to expel them.  She could not allow for any ideas of that nature.  There would surely have been unforeseen obstacles that would have impeded their progress, and they were simply taking longer to arrive than what they had estimated. 

Still.  Scully glanced at the clock, gauging how long she had been scrubbing and how long Mulder and Skinner had been gone.  Despite the steel grip she normally reined over her emotions, tears began to cloud her vision and she silently cursed once she realized that the quick below two of her fingernails was bleeding.  She had been so preoccupied that she had scrubbed the skin raw.  Overcome by the sheer injustice she felt, she left the tears fall freely as she treated the broken skin with ointment.  Berating her carelessness and weakness, Scully feared what might happen when she went to make the first incision. 

Several stories above, Mulder rushed down the stairwell that led down to the medical lab and infirmary with Jeremiah Smith.  Worrying that he had been gone far too long, he focused on getting down the stairs as fast as he could without tripping.  He didn’t allow himself to begin thinking about any of the possibilities regarding what had transpired after he left, forcing himself to concentrate on the stairs so he could take them several at a time.  Stumbling through the door that separated the stairwell from the medical facilities, he ran for the infirmary and caught himself barely before he toppled into Scully as she exited the lab carrying a tray of tools.

“Scully!  How is he?”

Startled by the sudden noise, Scully almost dropped the tray before she caught herself and turned to see Mulder bearing down on her.  She frowned, shaking her head even as she felt a wave of relief.  “He’s in a lot of pain, Mulder.  Where’s Smith?”  She was alarmed that he wasn’t with Mulder and she began to suspect the worse. 

“He’s here.  Coming.  What are those for?”

Scully set the tray down unsteadily, her calm facade betrayed by her quaking hands.  “I hope it doesn’t matter now.”

“What about Gibson?”  Looking broken, Scully simply shook her head in response before entering the small medical bay where both boys lay.  “We’re taking care of him, but he doesn‘t have much time.“ 

Mulder had felt Will’s pain since reentering the complex but not the way he did now that he approached the boy’s bedside.  Hands moving to his temples, it was enough to make him stagger back before it overwhelmed him.  It was made all the more unbearable by the fact that Mulder could do nothing to ease it and had once been in the same situation.

Jeremiah entered the room, frowning as he glanced between both Gibson and William.  “There is a great deal of work for me to do here.”  Moving to Gibson’s side, he frowned, a mysterious expression clouding his features.  “There’s nothing I can do for this one.”  Theo glanced at him forlornly as he moved away to William’s bedside.  “He is in such terrible pain.”  Laying his palms over William’s temples, Jeremiah bowed his head and stood still.  Mulder immediately felt the pain begin to ebb and sighed with relief.

Eyes opening only slightly, the healer regarded them all calmly.  “Leave me here with him.  Your suffering is only adding to his agony.  I will do what I can for both of them.”

Long hours passed.

Mulder sat staring blankly into space, slumped against a wall as he sat on the floor.  He might feel better pacing, but Scully had fallen asleep against him, despite her attempts not to.  She was resting wrapped in one of his arms and Mulder was glad she had a break from the stress she had been under.  She had pushed her body beyond the realm of exhaustion and Mulder had feared for her health.  His own current thoughts were more conflicted and tears slid down his cheeks as he worried about them and what their future might hold.  It wasn’t like him to sit around while someone else attempted to solve the matter at hand.

He didn’t know the solution to their problems.  There were no clues, no trail of mysterious hints to follow or psychopathic mind to unravel to close the case.  In pathology, matters of the physical body, he had always turned to Scully for the answers, but even her science had limits.  And now, when it counted more than anything either of them had ever done, the matter was not one they could resolve through their combined knowledge and skills.  The only avenue of the present moment was in faith.  Absently, Mulder fingered the cross of Scully’s that still enclosed his neck.  Slipping it off carefully, he brought it out from beneath his shirt and examined it as he had many times before.

Mulder had never been a religious man.  There had been few times he had prayed in his life and those had all been times of desperation.  Each act had been when he had lost someone dear in his life - his sister, his father, Scully, her sister, her daughter, his mother.  Each time he had felt guilt for deaths, abductions, and damage he had considered his fault.  For a long time after that, he had never prayed.  The urge to communicate with a non-responsive God had been replaced with rage.  Rage over the injustice done to Scully, his own abduction experience, his incarceration for a crime he did not commit, being denied the right to raise the child that he and Scully had endured so much for.  There was too much injustice in the world for him to know God as anything but an absent puppeteer who only read the box scores.

Staring at the cross, Mulder wanted to know gratitude.  He wanted to know the blind faith that Scully had often demonstrated when difficult circumstances presented themselves.  He and Scully had been lucky to escape.  They should have been dead many times over in the years they investigated the X-Files and in the years of hiding they had undergone following his arrest.  To create life where every scientific analysis said that it was beyond hope.  To find William and bring him to safety here even after he had suffered from the invading virus, to enjoy life together with all its mysteries and gifts for the years he and Scully had shared abroad and in isolation.  Meeting the woman who was his perfect opposite, the one who kept him honest, someone who had saved him a thousand times over.  What allowed those small miracles?  A forgiving, all-loving deity? Other hands? A mix of fate and random chance?  It would always be a mystery.

_Slender long fingers dipped into the crystal, clear water.  Looking up, he smiled that the water was warm and undisturbed, at peace.  It tasted sweet.  It soothed his throat.  There was a feeling of wisdom deep within him, a knowing sense that the people and nature were once again in balance._

_Across the lake by which he perched, a large island drew his focus to the center community, a bustling city.  Three large, stepped pyramids aligned with the heavens ensured harmony between Earth and sky.  All was as it should be.  Deep satisfaction overwhelmed him for the blessings he had received.  A beautiful lover, a strong and healthy son.  Today was a day to pay tribute.  Stretching out his long, lean body, he dived into the calm water and began the journey that lead him home toward the largest of the three monuments.  Shoulders dipping in and out of the water, he was reminded of swimming in endless waters much cooler, an age ago.  A familiar glimpse into a different life he could not place._

_Pleasantly exhausted, the man drew himself up out of the water and shook it from his long hair.  Some part of him had expected to see individuals a certain way, but he did not view what he expected.  The large temple looming above him had also changed, but it confused him.  It was smaller, clean, the stones freshly hewn.  Curiously precise.  The lake he had recently emerged from receded as fair-skinned beings dressed as eagles walked down the layers of the stepped pyramid and into the now dry lakebed.  Beneath the temples, beneath the lake, they descended into a circular opening, surrounded by mysterious but familiar symbols._

Mulder woke gasping, having shocked himself awake.  His sudden movement woke Scully beside him and he lifted his arm absently so she could wriggle out from his embrace.  The ship is stuck in his mind.  He knows it from something he has seen thousands of times and he is struck that it is the same ship that he and William built on the beach long ago.  This particular ship was remarkable, but now he could not remember why.  He has never seen it anywhere but buried in the beach and questions begin to work themselves through his brain. 

“I can’t believe I fell asleep.  Has there been any word?”  Scully observed him with concern as he used his hands to stretch his stiff knees and listened to their disturbing response and his resulting murmur.  She attempted to stretch her own back where Mulder’s arm had rested. 

“I don’t think so.  I drifted off myself,” Mulder admitted sheepishly. 

Scully made a note to examine his knees later and cupped his elbow in her hand, not expecting the wince that met the action.  “Your sensitivity to the magnetite here… It’s getting worse, isn’t it?  We can’t stay here much longer.”

“ _Correction_ \- I’m not going to be able to stay here much longer.  The safest place for you and Will is right here.”  Mulder immediately felt her hand tighten and grimaced.  He should not have brought this up now.

“Don’t even think for one second that I’d allow you to-”

Mulder reached to grip her hand gently with his own.  “Scully, if I can save you, let me.”  He echoed words she had said to him long ago when their situations had been reversed.  Even ravaged by cancer and on the brink of death, Scully had considered his welfare above her own.  He hadn’t left her sacrifice her reputation to save him then, and he doubted that she would allow him to keep them here where they might be protected, but he could try.  This was about more than just the two of them now. 

The familiar words were not lost on her, but did nothing to quell the challenge he saw in her eyes.  “Don’t be so stubborn.  Do you really think they’ll let him go, considering what they think he is?” Mulder asked.

“What makes you so sure they would even allow you to leave?”

Mulder scuffled his boot along the floor absently.  “I’m not prepared to give them an option.  Think about what is best for Will.  What life could we possibly hope to provide out there, scrambling just to survive? This isn’t ideal, I know, but it’s better for both of you than what is out there.  It‘s a wasteland up above.  Nearly everything‘s been destroyed…  I don‘t think I could keep you safe.  We were almost blown apart by one of their ships coming back.”

“Look…”  Scully took a deep breath, trying to calm the anger she felt boiling to the surface and in her own trembling hands, “I know your heart is in the right place, but whatever may be out there - we’re going to face together.  _Alt_ ogether, Mulder.  We are not splitting up…  Maybe you’re right that it’s safer here, but I was there the last time you left us thinking you would protect us by doing so…  Our son needs us!  Both of us, Mulder!  We need each other… I need you… and wherever you go, I’m walking after you.”

The clasping sound of the door mechanism jarred them to their feet as Jeremiah emerged from the room disheveled and exhausted.  “William is ready to see you.  He should be fine now.  I am sorry about Gibson, but he is at peace now.  I have to get back.”

“Oh thank you.”  Scully hugged the man, sobbing silently, filled with gratitude.  “Thank you.  Everything you‘ve been through to come here…  I can‘t imagine.”

Mulder felt a great weight lift from him as he sighed with relief.

_They walked along the bridge that crossed the lake toward the center island, the beings surrounding them frozen in time dressed in fine regalia.  It was night now, the air balmy.  A full moon above them lit their surroundings._

_“What power do you wield here?  You‘re controlling them.”  William was curious and displaying authority was something the smoking man obviously cared a great deal about.  It was the first words he had spoken to the older man since they left the cliff._

_“Perceptive boy.”  The man grinned and made the boy feel unsettled, an effect that was not lost on him.  “In another life, I held power like these men… the power of Gods.  The ability to orchestrate the lives of others.  Each player, their entrance and exit, their impact on a theme.  Introductions of variations designed to shape an all-consuming perspective, a drive to uncover the truth.  The addition of a beautiful and taming counterpoint, someone so vital to the central element that he becomes inoperable without it.  Allowing closure and release only when I deemed the work complete.  And finally,” the smoking man sighed smoke, looking down at him fondly.  “The birth of a fantasy to start the process anew.”_

_William had listened half-heartedly, distracted by the arc of eagle-men that now emerged atop the pyramid structure surrounded by braziers lit ablaze.  “What are they doing?”_

_“Burying the past-”_

_Emerging from the water below, Mulder surfaced and immediately spotted them as they surveyed the surroundings.  “Hey!  Get the hell away from him!”_

_The older man continued watching the men in the distance.  “Easy now, son.  I’m just showing the boy his heritage.  Even now, I’m showing you what you need to see… giving you the answers you seek, and yet here you are being callous.  Awfully unbecoming, Fox, don’t you think?”_

_Mulder pulled himself from the water and onto the pier so that he stood between the Smoking Man and William.  “You’ve given me nothing but pain.  Remember your last words to me, happy to see me powerless, able to do nothing?  Telling me I could go die?”  Mulder turned to William.  “Forget whatever he said to you, Will.  It’s a lie.”_

_“A test, Mulder, to prove your resolve, check your mettle as it were.  You‘ve underestimated me, as always.”  An evil glint lit the old man’s eye as he bared the slightest of smiles.  “For everything I’ve cost you, I’ve given you twice.  I protected you through the years, made them forgive your sentence, assured you would be in a position to survive.  Brought you Dana, assured she survived,” the old man looked at William fondly.  “Allowed you both to bear a child even when science said it couldn‘t be done.  Don’t be petulant.  I’ve created you.  I’ve forged you from steel.”_

_Mulder shook his head, outraged.  “You’re cancer.  You’re dead and buried.”_

_Above them, a man and woman dressed as an eagle and a snake emerged at the edge of platform towering over the lakebed.  As everyone looked upon them in silence, they were lit ablaze and leapt together into the lake below, weighted so they would sink to the bottom.  Ritual sacrifices, the first of many._

_“We all make sacrifices for the things we value in life, Fox.  We tally sins, seeking redemption.”  The Smoking Man took a long drag from his cigarette, regarding Mulder coolly.  Leaving them, the old man began to walk into the distance and fade.  “It really is easier than you think when you realize what it means to serve the greater good.”_

_Will turned in confusion to Fox, but then their surroundings were shifting and the perspective changed._

He was back in the hospital bed, his father hovering above him beside his mother.  Mulder’s hand had smoothed back the hair from his damp brow.  William was relieved to be awake and sore.  His throat hurt to swallow and his muscles felt weak but responded when he began to sit up.  Something else was different.  The thoughts around him, previously screaming and overriding his own were now cloaked, dampened, available but only if he wished.  The knowledge to control them was now at his disposal where it had not existed before.  He began to pull at the tube below his nose, ready to get up now that he was able, but Scully quickly grabbed his hands. 

“Hold on, let me.”  Scully’s joy was evident in the tears she quickly wiped away and William couldn’t help but grin at her before she enveloped him with a hug.

In the days that followed, there would be grief for Gibson to bear and questions regarding the vision that Mulder and William both saw, but for now they briefly shared a moment of happiness for William’s returned health and a moment of gratitude for the healer that had come so far to help them.  Jeremiah had disappeared shortly after Will’s recovery, but Mulder expected they might see him again someday.


	12. Chapter 12

**XII**

* * *

 

_“I think that you appreciate that there are_  
extraordinary men and women; extraordinary moments when   
history leaps forward on the backs of these   
individuals. What can be imagined, can be achieved.   
You must dare to dream, but it is no substitute for   
perseverance and hard work. And teamwork, because no   
one gets there alone. And while we commemorate the   
greatness of these events and the individuals who   
achieve them, we cannot forget the sacrifices of those   
who make these achievements and dreams possible.”

\- Dana Scully, _Max_

* * *

 

The dim lighting matched the mood at the viewing for Gibson Praise.  It had just been over a day since his passing.  With few individuals present, Scully was not surprised to see the small turnout.  While she knew better, it was clear that Gibson had been viewed as a spy by many in the bunker and that he tended to avoid others because of it.  His abilities had made him outcast, and it saddened her to know that he died young and pessimistic.  He had been a good kid cast in a role he never wanted, denied a childhood and the ability to live life like a regular human being. 

William seemed to be coping sorely with the loss, his sour mood a mask for the deep mourning he was experiencing for his friend.  Kryder seemed to be having difficulty dealing with the loss as well and the others left him alone while he dealt with his sorrow.  Scully observed them from afar as she stood by Mulder and Skinner.  “It’s easy to feel that we’ve been all been slighted by life, but Gibson had it far worse.  I think his abilities were more of a curse for him then a blessing.” 

Mulder nodded in agreement.  “It allowed him access to the darkest thoughts in everyone’s mind.  How different life would seem if we all removed the filter that stands between what we think and what we let others know we think.  To constantly be assaulted by everyone’s fears and temptations, it’s no wonder he stayed away from others… not that that helped much.  He told me once that he looked forward to death, because then he wouldn‘t have to listen to everyone and feel responsible for all their problems.”

Skinner bowed his head.  “I never knew him well, but I hope he’s at peace now…  I‘m going to pay my respects and head back down.”  The young girl they had rescued from the gas station was being kept in quarantine where Threadgoode was looking after her far below.  Skinner had become quite attached to the child, despite her unwillingness to speak other than an occasional head nod. 

“Have you found anything out?”  Scully had been meaning to be more helpful but had spent most of the last day recovering from her extended sleep deprivation.  She hadn’t known of the girl’s existence until Mulder filled her in on their excursion after William’s recovery.

“We think her name is Rachel.  One of the women was finally able to convince her to change and it was written on the tag inside her shirt.  Other than that, she still won’t speak.  Threadgoode hasn’t been able to determine much else yet…”  Nodding to his former colleagues, Skinner took the initiative and walked to where Gibson was laid out where the Gunmen already stood looking over the body.

Frohike, dressed up for the occasion, seemed a relic from a bygone era.  “He was a real patriot.”

“A true American,” Byers concurred. 

“He had awesome kung fu.”  Langly concluded. 

“Rest in peace, soldier,” Frohike said in farewell and the three left to prepare a wake they had planned in the young man’s honor. 

“Do you think that’s how William feels about people, being able to understand their thoughts?”  Scully didn’t mean to sound afraid, but the thought terrified her.  She could handle the thought of William being different from other children, but she was afraid that he might not.  “Do you think he’ll recover after everything he’s been through… losing the family that raised him, his sense of life, the illness, now Gibson?  I’m worried over how badly he’s been traumatized.”

Mulder bit his lip, pausing for consideration.  “I think we’ve all been traumatized by everything that’s happened.  If you’d like a psychological opinion, I’d say that many kids are better at adapting to and accepting tragedy than adults.  And while it’s clear that he’s depressed, as long as he feels safe and knows there’s hope…  Understands that he has someone to turn to, knows that he‘s loved…  I think he’ll recover eventually.”

Scully gripped her partner’s hand, grateful for this soft side of him that came out whenever she needed it to.  “Us.”

Mulder nodded, sharing the light knowing smile only she understood.  “When he finally does melt down, we’ll be there.  We’ll all help each other get through this.”   

They were silent a moment, reflecting on the occasion.  The Gunmen paused by them on their way out.  The service would end soon.  “You guys stopping by?”

“Yeah, we’ll be by in a bit.”  Mulder responded, chewing at his lip, preoccupied.  He was watching Will, more concerned than he was letting on, seething over recent events.  Hope and safety were in short supply these days.

Nodding, the Gunmen departed.  Scully looked to William, who sat alone on a bench near Gibson.  “Do you think he’s ready to go?”

“Let’s see.”   

 

They sat a polite distance away but flanked both sides of the broken-hearted boy.

“Hey,” Mulder ventured.

“Hey,” William responded simply, his face drawn and devoid of emotion.

“The service will be concluding soon.  Should we pay our respects?”  Scully didn’t want to rush William but knew the unit in charge of cremations would be arriving soon and preferred they be gone by the time they arrive.   

“Yeah.”

Getting up slowly, William made his way to Gibson following Mulder.  The three of them stood side by side near the corpse. 

“He was a good man,” Mulder began.  “He left me stay with him in the desert when I needed to hide.  He did everything he could to help me and I owe my life to him.”

William nodded as he looked at Gibson’s closed eyes.  “He told me about it.  He said you’re a terrible roommate, but that you had a lot of great stories.”

Mulder smiled.  Entertainment was sorely lacking in Gibson’s underground home and the younger man seemed to enjoy listening to every wild adventure Mulder would tell him, eager to point out any critical details Mulder was omitting.

“I didn’t get to know him very long,” William continued, “but he really helped me.  He was a good friend.  I think I might have gone insane without him.  I feel like he saved my life, too.”  William wanted to reach out and touch Gibson’s hand, but he was afraid to touch the corpse.  

Scully bowed her head briefly, hoping to summarize what they all felt.  “Rest in peace, Gibson.  Thank you for all you have done for us.  We will always remember you.”

Together, they left the service.  William cast one last sad look back at his friend before slipping his hand inside Scully’s.  It was the first physical act of comfort he had sought and Scully wrapped her hand around his as she beamed inward, careful not to react too strongly.  Neither of them saw it, but Mulder smiled behind them, touched by the tender act, temporarily distracted from the whirlwind of thoughts clouding his brain.  While he mourned for Gibson, he knew that he had finally earned the rest he had sought for so long. 

The wake was little more than a meal between friends at the Gunmen’s, a ritual that had become a weekly meeting between the old confidants to stay apprised of everything that was happening in the base.  Threadgoode and Kryder had been invited to join the party as the weekly gatherings progressed, and while Skinner and Threadgoode were in the isolation ward several stories below, the rest of them assembled to share each other’s company in the cramped quarters.  The rooms that Mulder and Scully shared would have been more accommodating, but the Gunmen knew their rooms were not being monitored, their predilection for paranoia an old habit that had served them well through the years. 

“A toast to Gibson,” Frohike raised his glass as they neared the end of their meal.  “Cut down before his time.”  Silently, they raised their glasses and drank.  There was little more to say, their stories about the young man having been shared and relished. 

Scully moved to change the subject before everyone decided to call it a night.  “This may not be the best time to bring this up, but it‘s the safest opportunity… we’ve decided to leave.”

Their friends looked at her with a mix of shock and surprise.

“The Overseer invited William and I to meet with him yesterday,” Mulder offered in explanation, anger tingeing his words.  “I was reprimanded for allowing Smith into the compound without submitting him to quarantine.  As ‘punishment,’ he’s forcing William to take over Gibson’s role as his personal spy, a role he calls the “Watchman.”  After he allowed William to leave the room, he threatened that any further perceived insubordination would result in Will being removed from our custody, _for his safety_.  Now all he needs is an excuse, and we don‘t intend to give him time to find one.  He ordered me to make final preparations with my unit.  We’re getting sent out early.”

“We don’t feel we have a choice but to leave before something tragic happens,” Scully added uncomfortably, the violence in her voice implicating a foul end for anyone who tried to take her son away, “but we decided to extend the invitation to any of you who would like to join us.”

“That sorry punk ass has a lot of nerve making threats, Mulder.  Maybe it’s time for reelections, if you get my drift.”  Frohike cracked his knuckles.

Mulder agreed.  “I wanted to snap his neck.  He’s a manipulative old bastard, I’ll give him that.  The power has gone to his head.”

“Let’s take him out,” Langly suggested, his voice disgusted.  “We get to stay in the bunker, and you don’t have to worry about him anymore.”  The Gunmen had had their own questionable dealings with the old man in the past.

“No, the people here are too loyal to him,” Scully countered.  “He’s too well armed.  People here are so petrified of what’s lurking above, they’re not going to question his leadership.  They view him as their savior.  I think trying to remove him would end poorly for all of us.”

Byers sighed, leaning against the bulkhead as he crossed him arms, frowning.  ”I agree and understand what you are saying, but we wouldn’t have any idea of what we could be facing on the surface.  There are going to be entire armies of those things up above.  How could we even possibly hope to survive?”

“Assuming we could find an internal solution, staying here is no guarantee of safety,” Scully pointed out.  “Supplies here will eventually run low and there will be no choice but to return to the surface.  Things will get very ugly.”

“Understanding that the Colonists know about the location of this bunker, it’s only a matter of time before send a slave army in to take it out, which would be easier than it seems, by the way,” Mulder added.  “I’d like to be long gone before the proverbial ‘shit’ hits the fan.”

“We’re damned if we do, and damned if we don’t,” Frohike sighed.

“There’s something else,” William added, unafraid to mention to the others what his parents could not.  “Mulder’s allergic to the magnetite that’s protecting the base.  If he stays here too long it will kill him.  He wants Dana to stay here to protect me but we’re not going to let him go out there alone.”  William hadn’t meant to pry, but Fox and Dana had been thinking about it constantly so it had been tearing at him too.   

Scully cast her eyes down, sorry that William had come to see the conflict between them, sorry she could not protect his innocence.

“Well, I’ve got to admit that it sounds insane, but what isn’t these days?”  Frohike pledged his help.  “I’ve always been under the impression that fresh air is good for the lungs.”

“If Toto’s in, so am I,” Langly decided. 

“Nothing gold can stay,” Byers admitted, invoking Frost.  “Maybe it’s time to leave the coffin.  What about Skinner and Threadgoode?”

“They’re both in.  Whatever it takes,” Scully supplied.

“I’m with you, too,” Kryder declared.  The young man had never had any doubt in his mind from the moment Scully announced they were leaving.  His convictions told him where he was needed most.  William’s revelation confirmed it.  “I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

Mulder nodded in gratitude at the soldier, feeling guilty over his previous callousness toward the man who had proved to be their ally more than once. 

“Breaking out of here isn’t going to be easy,” Langly declared, “This place is locked down tighter than Fort Knox.  Good thing it just so happens we know who installed the security system.”  He smirked, complimenting his own handy work. 

“Give yourself a bone, Scarecrow,” Frohike ribbed him.  Langly had not been the only one who contributed to securing the base inside out.  He was more interested in their old friends’ response to his next question.  “Once we get out, where do you plan on going?  As far as we know, there’s nothing left up there.  What do you possibly hope to find?”

“A kill switch for these creatures, something we haven’t discovered or thought of.  A way to eradicate them once and for all.  I want to find it.”

“He keeps having these dreams about it,” William supplied, trying to be helpful.  “I have, too.”

“Do you know where it is?  What is it?” Byers asked.

“Not yet,” Mulder said not wanting to divulge everything he had witnessed in his sleep, “but we have a lot of planning to do if we‘re even going to escape.”


	13. Chapter 13

**XIII**

* * *

 

_“Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind._ __  
Because your lover threw wild hands toward the sky  
And the affrighted steed ran on alone,   
Do not weep.  War is kind.”

_-_ Stephen Crane, _War Is Kind_

* * *

 

It was late when Mulder, Scully, and William returned to their quarters.  A deep unsettling paranoia had overcome Mulder and he spent an hour searching their rooms for monitoring devices. 

Scully sat with William on his bed as they listened to Mulder crash around.  This bedtime ritual had become unnecessary since William no longer needed the daily injections, but Scully was creative at finding excuses to visit him before he fell asleep and the boy did not protest. 

The truth was that he liked Scully despite himself.  He was growing more attached to the woman than he wanted to or cared to admit.  He still thought of his old family often, but he knew that his parents would have wanted him to survive if he could find a way.  If that meant joining his Godparents, he thought his mother, father, and sister would approve.

“How are you holding up?”  Scully’s direct question knocked William out of his reverie and he looked at her, caught unaware. 

“I’m fine.”  William stared at the ceiling, soundlessly. 

“I’m familiar with that line, and I usually say it when I’m anything but…” Scully responded, running his hand over his hair, smoothing it back.  “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,” she continued, “I just hope you feel you can talk to me and know that I’m here if you want to.” 

William nodded.  He wanted to stay silent, but had also been desperate to talk to someone about everything he had witnessed.  She had just given him permission and the thoughts he’d been lingering on began to slip out faster than he could contain them.  “I miss them… a lot.”

“Your family?” Scully prompted. 

William nodded.  “Gibson too, all the other people I knew.  I can’t believe that they‘re all gone.  I couldn’t save my sister, and I was supposed to protect her…  Why did I survive when no one else did?” 

“You’re not responsible for any of their deaths, William.  I hope you can feel that’s the truth.  You survived because you had a level of resistance to the virus that everyone else didn‘t.  I had been exposed to it long before you were born.  We were fortunate to get to you when we did.”

“I miss being outside, too.  Sometimes, I feel like the walls are going to collapse or the ceiling is going to fall down, or that all of this will collapse and crush us inside it.  Just thinking about everything, I wish I could be up top with the sun on my face.”

Scully couldn’t argue with that.  She felt the same thing.  “Are you claustrophobic?”

“No, but I don’t like being this far underground.  It’s like living in a mine.”

“You’re right, it is.  I’m not a big fan of it myself, but you know why we’re here.” 

“We’re hiding from them because they’ll kill us if they find us.”

“Yes, that‘s why.”

“But we can’t stay here any longer because the Overseer wants to use me to control you and Mulder, and Mulder’s getting sick.” 

“Right.”

Despite his best attempts to stay in control of everything he was feeling, William felt himself tearing up and turned on his side away from Scully so she wouldn’t see.  “What’s going to happen to us?”

Scully’s heart broke for her child.  “I don’t know, baby, but whatever it is, we’re all going to face it together.  It’s okay… come here.”

Sitting up, William turned to her no longer hiding his tears.  She hugged him against her shoulder, inviting him to grieve as she rubbed his back.  She regretted that William had experienced so much loss in his young life, resented that she could do nothing except comfort him as he dealt with the pain.

When Mulder appeared silhouetted in the doorway later, Scully gently helped her sleeping son lay down, kissed his forehead and joined Mulder.  Neither of them slept very comfortably and no words were spoken between them.  They both knew what they were thinking about.

Mulder stared at the digital clock adorning the wall in their small room.  It was just after six a.m.  He had lain awake most of the night pondering their escape and his foolish belief that he would be able to keep Scully and William safe.  Tucking the covers he evaded around Scully, he changed and headed to Skinner’s.  He didn’t think the older man would be awake, but Mulder needed to speak with him. 

When Mulder hadn’t received a reply outside Skinner’s quarters, he headed down to the isolation unit where the young girl they had rescued was contained.  Resting outside the medical chamber where Rachel lay, Skinner sat half-asleep against the wall.  He looked at Mulder groggily as he entered the room. 

“I thought I might find you here.  How is she?”

“She doesn’t need to be here.  She’s not sick.  They’re more concerned with why she doesn’t have it.”

“That is a good question.”

“It’s in her DNA like yours.  She has the marks on her neck, too.”

“The bumps?”

“Yeah.  I know your experience came about through your abduction, your repeated exposure to the Purity virus… but how does a young girl show the same type of transformation?”

Mulder silently thought a while before responding.  “There was a series of experiments aimed at producing an organic supersoldier.  One involved chloramines being manipulated and spiked into drinking water throughout the D.C. area.  When pregnant women who had been abducted were exposed to this chemical, their children were altered.” 

“I think I remember the report.  You think she’s one of those babies?”

Mulder nodded, still thinking.  “She’d be the right age.” 

“They don’t want her here.”

“She was helpless out there.”

“They don’t care.  That’s not how they see it.”

Mulder produced a worn notepad from his pocket and scribbled quickly.  _We’ll take her with us then._

Skinner nodded.  He had planned as much.  Motioning to Mulder, he took the notepad and wrote discreetly.  _Figure out how._

It was in this manner they joined the Gunmen in their quarters for early morning coffee and set to discovering how they would excuse themselves from the Greenbrier bunker.

Skinner received the official order to prepare Mulder’s phase shortly after eight and Mulder had his men convened in a lower training area by ten.  The men were confused as to why they were mobilized early.  Above them in an adjacent training hall, another man was in charge of a smaller scout unit preparing them to do reconnaissance ahead of Mulder’s mission.  Mulder was sure those men had to be more pissed off than his own. 

Mulder could read it on their faces.  His own men said nothing but sat watching him expectantly awaiting his orders.  They still regarded Mulder with suspicion and awe.  Originally, it had only been suspicion, but once Mulder broke another man’s arm on accident while training, they saw he possessed an unnatural strength they did not understand.  The man whose arm had been permanently disfigured had become a kitchen cook after the incident and Mulder hadn‘t ate for a week. 

Most of the men in Mulder’s unit were ex-military with a few backwoods conspiracy theorist crack shots for good measure.  The group dynamic had always been grim; these were the men who wanted to take a few down with them and happened to be the best shots with death wishes. 

Mulder used the remote to power a large projector mounted above him.  PowerPoint held nothing on slides, but he had to take what he could get.  As soon as the bulb warmed, a large map appeared on the blank wall behind him. 

“What was once Summerville lies sixty-five miles to the northwest.  Our objective is a large cloning facility near Summersville Lake.  The unit operated under the cover of a fish hatchery.”

Mulder advanced the slide to an exterior view of the building.  A few of the men snickered.

“Shortly to review, these clones are alien-human hybrids, programmed drones created to carry out operations where the Colonists themselves cannot travel.  Magnetite-shielded areas such as our own base and the surrounding countryside.  Units similar to the one at Summerville have been detected at the edges of such protected fields.  By destroying it, we help protect our facility.  They can easily land forces via air outside the protected zone, but they haven’t been willing to do so yet.  It may not be long in coming, however, so the Overseer has decided to up the timeline for our strikes. 

Have your gear ready.  Check and proof your weapons.  Once the reconnaissance mission reports back, you will receive detailed targets and we will be set loose.  All other procedures and plans remain intact with added guidelines for experiencing airborne particulate matter, so go back to your notes and review.  You’ll have the opportunity to ask questions once we know more.  That’s all.  Dismissed.”

The reconnaissance team left at two that afternoon. 

Mulder dutifully prepared his gear and spent a noticeable amount of time in the firing range before joining Skinner and the Gunmen that evening outside an air intake a short way from the cavernous vertical garden.  Langly had taken care to loop the security monitors before they met and Mulder shook his head at his friends in their black tactical outfits.  Some things would never change.  “ _Fun_ ky poaching.  Not obvious at all, gentlemen.”

“We always wear this when we’re working on the lines,” Frohike quipped.

“Professional dress,” Langly added as if it was gospel. 

“I tried to tell them,” Byers stated simply.

Mulder examined the braided Ethernet cables the Gunmen had twisted into rope looped heavily around his torso.  “This is clever.  What’s the carrying capacity?”

“Enough,” Byers answered simply.  He was warily examining the claustrophobic tunnel they were about to climb into.

Mulder imagined his friends testing the cable in their cramped apartment and didn’t want to know what method they used to come to that conclusion.  As Skinner lifted the grate, Mulder climbed cautiously into the dusty tunnel before the others joined him.

The climb was long and dirty.  Mulder wiped his watering eyes as they emerged at the edge of a larger vertical tunnel.  They were now above the enormous cavern that housed the garden and reservoir.  Through the grate in the distance, he could hear the water rushing and see the dim lights that lit the complex at night.  While few people moved through the area during the evening, they would need to remain aware of how much noise they made. 

“All right, what do I need to do with this?”  Mulder could see how far the vertical tunnel stretched above them before branching off horizontally.  He stretched his back in anticipation of the discomfort he knew the night’s activities would lead to, trying to ignore the now-constant ache in his joints.   

“You play Batman, and we come behind with these.”  Frohike produced a large bolt tied to looped cables.  The spikes would later serve as hand and foot holds.  Skinner tested a silenced drill behind them briefly. 

“Does that make you Robin or Catwoman?”  Mulder quipped, looking up again with despair.  “Maybe the Joker, at that.”  This looked dangerous.  No wonder he had been nominated.  The tunnel they stood beside had to stretch fifty feet high.  He wondered what it would feel like to impact with the grate below, if it would give from his weight smashing into it at an accelerated rate of speed or just cube him like a vegetable slicer.    

“Get me some light, Langly.”  Flashlights were taped to illuminate the path Mulder needed to run the rope.

Carefully, Mulder stretched.  Reaching out, he spanned the distance across the open tower and placed his palms far apart on the opposite side.  He was grateful that his boots still had plenty of tread left on them because he was going to need it.  Raising a leg, he levered his weight between the sides and began to climb slowly.  It was going to be a long night.   

Five hundred feet above and exhausted, Mulder smelled spring and charred wood.  It was a minor comfort as Skinner watched him bend over before climbing yet another vertical tower.  The others had taken turns in teams staying behind to run the spikes that would support their final climb later when they had more equipment.  Byers diligently drilled below them supported by Mulder’s latest attachment. 

Mulder desperately wanted to be finished for the night.  His knees and elbows were screaming, but he knew they were close now and the desire to have their evacuation route complete pending tomorrow’s bunker-related suicide outweighed his need for a warm shower and limb amputation.     

“Feel like James Bond?” Skinner asked, resting as he leaned his head back against the wall.  Mulder smiled, knowing his friend would not realize why.

_‘If wishes were horses.’_

“What are you talking about, Skinman?  I am Bond,” Mulder reiterated, grinning once he looked up and realized a pipe leading out of the wall would make his ascent much easier through this part of the route. 

Skinner refused to watch as his friend climbed a bit too nimbly, a bit too quickly to appear human.  “You’re a lucky son-of-a-bitch is what you are,” Skinner clarified, wishing he could take a nap.

The final two hundred feet had been the roughest.  The outside was close enough to feel and Mulder wished he could watch for the sun as he anchored the last stretch of cord near a grate that separated the largest air-intake from the surface.  The others rested, exhausted, in the last horizontal stretch fifty feet below while he completed the task and clambered into the bored tunnel that led to an embedded thick blast door.  The outside decimation of what used to be West Virginia waited on the other side.  He laughed aloud noticing a fire extinguisher that had been posted on the wall long, long ago, a forgotten relic of the Cold War from decades past.  It wouldn’t be doing anyone any good any time soon.

He dumped everything he didn’t want to carry on the journey back down.  No point in packing anything if he would be coming out this way within the next few days.  He briefly contemplated leaving his rock hammer but had the good fortune to need to drive spikes on his way down since the others were now too tired to move.  It was past four a.m. when they began the long descent back down into the bunker, their escape route finally functional.      

Scully helped him remove the dust from his hair in the shower once he returned.  They were cramped in the small space but she continued, massaging the muscles in his shoulders and neck as he leaned against the wall exhausted, showing him how much she appreciated him even as she appreciated his ass.  In languid tones, Mulder assured her the feeling was mutual.   

Mulder pinned Scully against the door before she could flee the tiny bathroom once they dried off and she had donned her robe, boxing her in.  “Listen Scully, if I don’t come back, I want you to get out of here with William.  Go with Skinner and get as far away as you can North, anywhere cold.  Find some other group of survivors and some-” 

“Don’t even start with talk like that.”  She tilted up and silenced him with her lips, knowing it was one method he wouldn’t protest.

The kiss lingered and threatened to reignite their passions but Mulder forced himself to focus, breakaway, and continue.  “Listen to me, Scully.  Don’t come after me, whatever you do.  If I’m out there and you go, I’ll find you, but promise me you won’t come looking for me.” 

Scully looked at him as if he had broken a promise, but said nothing.


	14. Chapter 14

**XIV**

* * *

 

_"Well, then, I hate thee, Unrighteous Picture;_

_Wicked Image, I hate thee;_

_So, strike with thy vengeance_

_The heads of those little men_

_Who come blindly._

_It will be a brave thing.”_

_-_ Stephen Crane, _XII_

* * *

 

They had taken to talking through the night long ago, finding that it helped with the sleepless nights they both encountered and helped pass the long hours when one or both of them were feeling restless.  Scully had once been a sound sleeper, but she had become as familiar with insomnia as her partner through the years.  Her patients had helped her belay the guilt she often felt late at night, but they also plagued her with their own desperate situations.  They were often incurable and hopeless, as helpless as she often felt late at night thinking of all the things in the past she wished she could rectify.  Now her patients were gone, her lost son returned, and a new world of problems ate at her.

Watching Mulder's chest rise and fall, she thought of all the times she had nearly lost him in the past.  His body bore too many scars just as hers did.  Her thoughts turned to the prospect they had of losing their son once again and how she would fight to prevent that even if it meant expelling her last breath.

Mulder watched her in the dark, facing her where they lay side by side on their mattresses.  He reached out and tentatively stroked her arm.  "I can hear you thinking.”

Her continued silence bothered him.  "Scully?"

She met his eyes acknowledging him, but got up and left the room without making a sound.

The dim reading light attached to William's bunk illuminated his restful features in an otherworldly way that reminded Scully's of Emily at her funeral.  She didn't like it, the similar way his still features appeared lifeless or how she just noticed how much they looked alike from this angle.  A fierce wave of protectiveness for him washed over her and she suppressed the urge to shake him awake for her benefit.

Mulder couldn't resist the urge to follow long and he found her leaning against the boy's bedroom doorway.  His hand on her shoulder invited her back to bed, but she clasped his hand and invited him instead to stand with her.

William woke to the smell of coffee and found them both seated at the kitchen table.  They had been rationing what was left of their supply, so it surprised him to see a whole pot made and sitting between them.  Mulder was furiously scribbling something for Scully and they were both so intent on it that they hadn't noticed him enter the room.  He loved the dark aroma of the beverage and how it lingered into his room in the mornings.  Caffeine had been a foreign concept at home, but there was something comforting to him now about the smell of coffee in the dark.  It reassured him he wasn't alone and reminded him that people cared about him.  The liquid powered Mulder and Scully to work long hours and while William's parents had been no stranger to long days on their ranch; he was amazed nonetheless by what he perceived to be its magical properties.

"Can I try some?"

He watched Scully's eyes meet Mulder's over the table once they realized he had joined him.  They argued silently a moment, and their nonverbal language confused William who had trouble deciphering some of it.  Scully eyed Mulder disapprovingly before she relented.  "Alright, but only one cup."

Mulder nodded in consent as retrieved a clean mug for Will and filled it.  "Hope you like it black.”  Mulder's personal hoard of sugar had run out the week prior.

Slipping into his customary seat at the table, Will accepted the steaming mug eagerly, savoring the aroma long before he brought the cup slowly to his lips after blowing on it to cool.

Scully couldn't help but laugh when William ran and spit out the small sip he had taken into the sink.  Her gamble had paid off.

Mulder furrowed his brow, unsure how any spawn of his could not love coffee.  "You don't like it?"

William looked at the cup like it had betrayed him before he set it beside the sink.  "How can something smell that great but taste so nasty? Ugh!"

"It's an acquired taste," Mulder began to explain.

"It tastes like gasoline," William declared.

"And it's going to be just as rare, so don't get hooked.”  Scully shared a poignant look with her partner before retrieving the cup from the sink.  Lesson learned.

"Hey!”  William didn't want the coffee, but he thought he might like to try it again later.

"Hey," Mulder interceded, "She brought you into this world and if she wants to drink-" Their banter was cut short by the dedicated walkie that set on Mulder's nightstand.  Its recognizable tune sent a wave of dread through Mulder as he momentarily ignored it, staring at Dana and Will.  A thousand brief thoughts passed through his mind before he reached for the device.  He didn’t want to leave them.

"Mulder," Skinner greeted him.

"What's happened?"

"The recon team isn’t reporting back in, I need you here pronto – he still wants to send you guys out.  I'm to tell you the Over wants you in his office ASAP."

"I'm on my way.”  Mulder shut the talkie off and absently moved to grab his pack from the closet nearest the door.

"What is it?" Scully asked.

"Time," Mulder said, casting her a forlorn look.  He was searching for his photo but it wasn't where it was supposed to be.

"Time? It's not supposed to be time."

"I know."

Scully's face briefly twisted.  "Don't go, Mulder.  They're using you."

"This is what I signed on to do, Scully.  I won't be gone long and then we’ll get out of here."

"It's a setup, Mulder, don't fall for it.  You're doing exactly what he wants you to do."

"Remember the hospital when I came to get you?  You stayed there how long working on those patients, even though you knew they had no hope.  You would have stayed there until you dropped.”

"I left them to go with you," Scully asserted.

"Only once you understood there was nothing more you could do," Mulder paused, wishing she would understand why he couldn't abandon his men so easily.  "You'd do the same thing, Scully.  Don't forget what I said.”  Moving quickly, he hugged William long and hard before the boy could protest.  "Look after your Mother for me.  Look after yourself."

William nodded at Mulder, feeling upset, having difficulty understanding.  "Please don't go," he attempted, shaking his head, bordering on tears.

"Sorry, bud…”  Mulder felt terrible looking into William's eyes as he drew back.  "I have to go do this, but I'll see you again soon."

Scully regarded him coolly and moved to help him with his pack, saying nothing.  Her face was a shield barely masking how upset she was with him.

"I'll be fine.  I'll be back, Scully.  I prom-."

"No promises," Scully cut him off sharply, "Just go, Mulder.  We'll be here."

Mulder wanted to move to her, to embrace her, but stood awkwardly before Scully, sad they would part like this.  "I'm sorry," he said, turning and leaving.

Will watched Scully hang her head a moment once Mulder had left, breathing slowly.  Then she regained her composure and looked him over.

"Will, I want you to go pack the bag Byers brought you.  I think we're going to need to move sooner than we thought.  Keep it light and I'll come help you in a few minutes."

Returning to his room, he had just shut his door when he heard Scully's fists crash down on the countertop.

Mulder's legs burned from running.  He felt like he was breathing acid and the filter he was breathing through left him feeling overexerted.  He paused to drink but moved quickly as soon as the water slipped down his throat.  The Overseer had pulled him from his mission and left his men to fend for themselves.  Mulder had been assigned instead to find out where the headwaters of their water intake slipped below the surface and how to install a filter that would keep the majority of debris clear of coming through with it.  He had agreed to solve the problem if the Overseer gave him twenty-four hours on the others, and while unhappy, he had relented.

Moving as he had never moved in his life, Mulder located the water intakes and built a makeshift sediment filter for each the water would pass through before slipping beneath the surface.  He had been moving since with several hours to spare courtesy of the bike he had borrowed from the base, solely focused on the men he was supposed to have been commanding and reaching their coordinates before they did.  The bike had given out several miles back however, and now Mulder was left to cover the remaining distance on his own.  He hadn't been able to believe the order for the attack had stood after the loss of the reconnaissance team, but the Overseer had called it a rescue mission and knew the team would be eager to deploy in light of losing their friends.

Mounting a hill approaching the team's coordinates, Mulder spotted the still burning wreckage of the vehicle his troops had deployed in as he fell to his knees, stomach lurching.  The Overseer had lied and deployed them while he was gone.  With the ash still darkening the sky and limiting visibility, he had been right up to the remains before spotting the split body of the sniper, Sneyd.  Michael.  He was badly burned and hardly recognizable but Mulder knew him.  He had a bad feeling he would find all the others and read their tags one by one as he made his way toward the collapsing, burning building.  

Adrenaline pumping, he tried to piece what had transpired as he moved forward, crouched and ready to open fire.  The building was ablaze but no one fired at him.  Mulder searched for tire marks but saw none.  Finally approaching the building despite his fear, Mulder noticed how empty it appeared.  The clones operating the facility had fled, but where?  He made his way back to the wrecked carnage of the truck.  Drinking water as he looked over the ruin before him, a new scenario began to form in his mind.  Colonists using the same opportunity the Overseer had perceived to take the bunker for their own, giving them a safe haven from the ash still falling from the sky.  His thoughts turned to Dana and Will and the chance he was already too late if his assumption turned out to be correct.

With an audible groan he turned, running toward the bunker.

The attack on the bunker had come during the night after Mulder left.  Will, Dana, and Kevin climbed stoically through the off and on drafts of gas that were being pumped in below, vision blurring with tears.  Following below were Rachel, Skinner, and the Gunmen.  They were all moving as fast as they could, but the handholds were difficult to navigate and they were moving slowly, coughing as they hauled their heavy packs.  A sudden shifted pitch in tone from the base's siren system below filled Skinner with dread.

"You've got to move faster, Will," he shouted over the weapon fire and screaming sounding from below.  "That’s the self-destruct!"

"Why the hell would they do that," Langly hollered from below.

"Just go!” Skinner urged.  "The base is going to blow itself inside out!"

They moved at a frenzied pace but it wasn't long until the first explosions began tearing the base apart from within beneath them.  Will was a short distance from the tunnel that would lead them outside when a large chunk of rock broke free from the ceiling and crashed through the air just behind them causing them to hug the wall.

"Go! Go! Go!" Skinner screamed as they continued upward.

Scully pulled herself up onto the final ledge behind William just in time to see the explosion that sealed the tunnel before them.  Hugging William fiercely and dropping to the ground, she tried to protect him from the cloud of dust and ash that enveloped them from the falling rock and crumbling walls.

"Are you okay?” Byers called up.  "What happened?"

Coughing and sputtering on the dust that had invaded her nose and throat, she fought the urge as she released William to rub her eyes.  She had managed to shield him but had not bowed her head in time to keep the dust out of her own eyes and airways.  Keeping her eyes shut, she felt for a place to sit as coughs wracked her body.

Scully coughed to clear her throat and it burned.  "Water,” she instructed Will.  "Quick."

When she heard him locate it, she leaned her head back and put her hand out for the bottle.  She was on the verge of panic, but forced herself to remain calm as she tilted and began squirting the liquid into her eyes, nose, and mouth to clean them, spitting without apology once she gargled.

"What are you doing?” Will asked, feeling helpless.

"Find more," she told him, blinking past the pain, sputtering.

Behind them, the others were still coming over the ledge.  "What happened?  Are you okay?”  Skinner asked, rushing to her side.

She squinted slowly up at him, ash and dust streaking down her cheeks as she blinked, "Did I get it all?"

"Almost," Skinner said, removing a flashlight from his belt and shining it in her bloodshot eyes.  He used his own water bottle to help her clean the rest he could see before handing it to her to gargle.  “You burst a few blood vessels. Are you able to see okay?”

The others were already retrieving air filters from their packs and putting them on.  Very little light was penetrating from the outside now and Frohike took a flashlight from his pack to shine at the blockage.  Loud explosions and rumbling continued below them and faint wisps of teargas now mingled with waves of acrid smoke as it searched for passage to the surface.

"Holy shit."

The entire twenty-five ton steel blast door barring their passage to the outside world now stood behind a wall of fallen boulders and debris.


	15. Chapter 15

**XV**

* * *

 

"If coincidences are just coincidences, why do they feel so contrived?"

\- Fox Mulder, _Clyde Bruckman’s Final Repose_

* * *

 

Will did not know Rachel very well but was learning how to work with her in tandem to clear the top of the debris pile.  It had taken them a while to develop it, but there was a rhythm to the work they fell into for as tedious as it was.  His hands clawed away the dirt and ash into piles on a tarp the others rigged and occasionally they dragged it to the edge of the pit and left the debris fall into the abyss below.  They had been at it for hours, but it didn’t seem like they had cleared much away at all.  He thought of the sand ships he worked with Mulder to destroy and how comparably his hands had moved, how similarly the boredom of it all made his mind wonder far from the task at hand.  At least the others would be able to help when they worked their way lower to the more stable rocks.

Later, they all awoke disoriented in the near dark, positioned halfway between the abyss they had emerged from and the large debris pile that barred their escape.  It had been difficult to rest through the smoke wafting from below, but the teargas and sirens had finally tapered off in the late hours of the morning and they were exhausted enough to pass out in the warm, dry air.  They had ate together as a group once awake, dissecting dry MREs Skinner warned them they would have to ration wisely.  "Wise decisions will see us through," he said.  "Poor planning and logic will get us killed.  Even now, we really shouldn't be eating."  Scully took the opportunity to give everyone a once over the best she could and was pleased everyone else had escaped with minor scrapes and bruises.

"Why?" William questioned, trying not to be annoying but curious as always.

Skinner looked to Scully shortly, realizing she would not want him to make light of their situation.  "Your body can go a lot longer without food than it can without water.  When you eat, your body uses water to process the food.  Unless you replace that water, you become dehydrated that much faster."

"But, we need to keep our energy up if we're going to think ourselves out of this mess.  Turn off your lights a moment and look over there," Kevin countered.  He pointed to the distant cord where they should direct their attention.

The others obliged, shutting off the flashlights that had illuminated their conversation.

"There's light coming from over the abyss," Byers said excitedly as his eyes finally adapted to the dark.

"We didn't come this far up with Mulder," Frohike added, "but he said just before we left that he had anchored that cord to an intake.  Come to think of it, he also said he left a bag up here with some stuff he didn't want to haul back down and up."

"Where would he have put the bag?" Langly questioned standing up, turning his light back on.

"It’s probably buried.  Worry about that later," Skinner said, waving him down.  "We need to figure out what we're going to do to get out of here."

"Given enough force, we could pull that grate out," Kevin speculated, flashing his light where the cord disappeared into the smaller shaft of the airway.

"If we pull out the grate, we won't have anything to climb," Langly pointed out.

"Not to mention how much force you'd actually need to tear it loose," Frohike added.  "If it didn't come down with Mulder hanging off it, we're not going to be able to pull it out."

"You guys go ahead and try to figure this out," Scully said, standing and brushing herself off.  "Meanwhile, I think Will and Rachel will be willing to help me start clearing debris over here.”  She made it clear by the tone of her voice that she felt that would be their best option and the others were wasting their time arguing otherwise.

William sighed as Scully flashed her light over the large pile of rocks blocking their way.  Boulders, dirt, and large rocks filled the passageway nearly to the ceiling and the base of the pile appeared as deep as William was tall.

"It won't be impossible, Will.  Small drops erode mountains," Scully told him.

"Yeah, eventually," Will said, flashing his own light at the base of the pile, "Over millions of years."  He gingerly tested his foot on one of the boulders to see if they would shift beneath his weight.

"Be careful," Scully admonished without thinking, surprised to hear the worlds spill out of her mouth.  Will shot her a stubborn look and pouted in a familiar way.  Scully repressed a smile even as Rachel looked at her as if she was crazy.  "Okay, I’m sorry, go slow," she amended, unable to believe how much she sounded like her own mother.  Her thoughts began to drift in that direction, but she forced herself to stay focused on watching Will's footing as he climbed.

Will bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something mean.  He didn't know why he was feeling so angry, thinking of the old man who had disappeared before joining them last night.  He was jittery from the strong emotions he was feeling courtesy of the others and upset after thinking about Mulder and the other people lost from below.  At least tackling the debris pile gave him something to focus on.  He saw Scully pull a tarp from her pack and wondered where she had acquired it.  She looked up at him once she saw he was watching.

“Do you always come prepared for everything?” he asked.

"Mulder and I got trapped in a cave once… twice actually,” Scully countered.  “Three times if you count-"

"Actually? Is there anything you two haven't done?"  He reached down to help Scully arrange the tarp so the debris could slide down, the slightest air of unintended nonchalance in his tone.

Scully thought a moment of her and Mulder's misadventures through the years as she positioned the rest of the tarp on the ground and smiled, growing more serious.  "Lots… actually.  Slide everything onto the tarp and we can move it to the edge.  We'll need to move all of this away from the door, or at least far enough to force the door open several feet," Scully directed.  "Face masks," she said pointing, leveling the Gunmen with an icy glare since they had left theirs slip down around their necks after their meal.

"Assuming the doors move outward," Langly said, coming from behind with the rest of the party.

"They open inward," Skinner said as a matter of fact.

"Let's all lay our tarps out.  We can take turns dumping the rocks," Byers said, already digging into his pack once he lifted his facemask back into place.

Climbing several feet, William held his hand out to Rachel to help her gain her footing.  Her smaller hand in his left him feel an unexpected soothing numbness and he realized she was very different from anyone he had ever met.  He wasn't expecting how much she weighed, either, and nearly toppled over with her in his distraction.  He left the thought go as he caught himself and helped pull her up, trying not to dwell on how much her hand in his reminded him of his sister’s.

"I'm really sorry, Rachel," he babbled, apologizing as he recovered.

' _You almost dropped me, and my name isn't Rachel!'_

Will stopped cold realizing that the girl had spoken to him without using her lips and dropped her hand.

' _I'm Joy,'_ she told him silently, digging her hands deep into the rubble.

Angry with himself, William dug his hands even deeper and willed the rocks below him to move.

Skinner left with Kevin to stand at the edge of the hole where they had emerged, flashing his light down the dark canyon.  It was over 500 feet from where they had begun their climb and he hoped there wasn't anyone left at the bottom.  "Hold what you're doing and be quiet a minute," he shouted back to the others, needing to be sure of something before they proceeded.  "Anyone down there?" he bellowed, waiting through the echo and deafening silence that followed.  "Theodore," he yelled, wishing their friend would call back and disprove his prevailing theory on the fate of the old man.

"Theo!”  Kevin screamed.  The echo and dead silence that greeted him almost made him wish for the sounds of the roaring fires and klaxons that had sounded but hours before.  They would never know what had kept the old man from joining them in their escape and he didn't want to talk about any of the possibilities.  He pondered the drop before them as they mourned their lost friend.

"If we could get that cord over here, I could climb to the grate.  If there are any other those anchors left, I could-"

Skinner placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder.  "Stop, Kryder.  What you are proposing is out of the question.  I know what you're saying and I want to get out of here just as badly as you do, but I don't think you should risk your life to do it unless we can't clear the debris."

Kevin looked down at Skinner's hand before looking up into the older man's eyes, nodding a silent assent.

Mulder was stumbling and delirious when he made it back to the Greenbrier, crazed as he vainly tried to locate the area the others would emerge from if they had survived the attacks.  He could not stomach the thought that they may already be gone and was feeling desperation that he could not find them.  Scully had been right to deride him.  There was no one to hear his screams but he was out of control, operating solely on instinct and desire.  A small part of his rational brain demanded calm, but the rest of him raged and channeled what adrenaline he had left into continuing the search.

"Scully!" he screamed hoarsely at the top of his lungs, not caring so much who heard him, as long as she did.  It briefly struck him that he should be concerned with hostiles being nearby, but he no longer cared.  They could take him and kill him as a favor if he had left his family and friends to their deaths.  "William!" he cried, voice cracking.

A small tone from a device on his hip made him jump and told him he was near his coordinates, but he wondered if it was inaccurate.  He was climbing over fallen pines coated in ash through an area that looked nothing like the wasteland he had left.  He would have chosen to disregard the technological device, but the ache in his knees and elbows had returned in full force and he knew the bunker lay directly over the thickest veins of magnetite in the area.  His body moved slowly and then quickly in short bursts, relaying the battle between his exhaustion and overwhelming need to find out what had happened as worst-case scenarios taunted him.

He would not have known he had found the grate if he hadn't fallen on it.  The grate immediately began to give beneath his weight and he scrambled off it just as it fell several feet and wedged in the airshaft below.

They all heard the thump and the consequential grating of metal against rock as the grate lodged itself at an angle down in the airshaft.

"What the hell!" Frohike clamped his hand over his mouth as soon as he shouted, sure it was unwise.

"Frohike?" Mulder yelled, unsure he had heard his friend or not.  He scrambled back to the edge of the black hole and coughed on the smoke and fumes wafting through as he called again.  "Frohike!"

"Mulder!  We're down here!" Scully screamed back, unable to keep the wave of relief washing over her from finding itself in her voice.

"Are you all right? Do you have everybody?” Mulder strained to see, though he knew it would be impossible from this angle.  He was relieved but frustrated by the distance between them.

"We lost Theo, but we’re otherwise okay!”  Scully coughed heavily from straining her voice, her throat still damaged.

"I'm going to get you out of there!" Mulder called back.

Scully felt absurd and glad, screaming over the dark abyss at the unseen hole in the ceiling as the others looked pointlessly skyward.  "Sure, Mulder.  Fine, whatever!"

Mulder chuckled and grinned as he rocked on his knees, reveling in the coded joke he and Scully used when shared they were miserable but physically okay.  The meaning of the words had evolved through the years since they had first used them.

It took several hours for everyone below to pull the grate from the ceiling.  Mulder used his advantage with a large branch to move the bottom grate as he could from above.  Finally, after a great deal of shoving and heaving, it tore from the ceiling unceremoniously and fell into the abyss with all the other debris followed shortly by the grate Mulder had originally landed on.  More light would have streamed into the hole it left, but darkness had fallen by the time they finished.  Exhausted, parched, and dirty, they decided to sleep and build their strength to escape in the morning.

Loud gunshots tore everyone from their slumber as a struggle broke out on the surface where Mulder had been resting.  Feeling helpless, Scully listened below as shot after shot exploded in different directions.  "Mulder! What's going on up there?"

Her gut clenched as he expended his clip.  She scrambled with her light to her pack, searching for her weapon in the small compartment that housed it.  She joined Skinner and the others at the ledge straining to hear in the darkness, but Skinner’s hand on her wrist halted her from flashing her light up at the abyss.  "Don't let anything up there know we're down here," he demanded in a hushed tone.

Mulder's feet scuffled on the ground above and they heard him throw his rifle to the ground when it jammed, cursing as something in the distance emitted an otherworldly moan.  Shortly, he appeared from the airshaft, repelling quickly above the abyss where he stopped.

"Get ready!  They're coming!” 

Flashlight in hand, William shone it now where the others pointed their weapons.

Mulder used the rope he was hanging on as a pendulum and began to give himself momentum.  He needed to get to the other side before whatever creatures pursuing him decided to cut his rope or follow him down.  He swung hard just as the first clone launched itself down the airshaft at him, catching his legs.  The creature's downward momentum combined with his own to send them violently twisting over the hollow below.  Mulder had just been able to shake the first free of one of his legs when another came speeding down through the airway and landed on Mulder's shoulders, nearly tearing him off the rope.  A loud rapport from Scully's gun accompanied the creature from Mulder's leg down into the pit.  Skinner picked off another entering above, but another behind it launched itself from the opening onto Mulder and off him toward the others, ending in a flurry of light and bullets as they backed up from the edge firing.

Mulder didn't feel the bite in his shoulder, but the creature terrorizing him stopped suddenly and fell from his back, shot through the neck.  When no sound came from above and Mulder was able to gain his sense after spinning so fast, he looked to where the others stared at him with mixed expressions of shock, squinting as one of them pointed their flashlight in his face.  He could see one of the clones lay sprawled at their feet, but Kevin moved quickly and placed a few more rounds in its face before kicking it unceremoniously into the pit.

"You alright, Mulder?" Byers called out.

Mulder looked down at himself, just realizing how tired his arms felt.  "I think so," he said.

"Swing your way over here then," Skinner instructed, indicating the others should move back as he took his own flashlight from his belt.  "Lower your light, Will, you're blinding him."

Shock had set in on the frozen boy who had never seen such carnage.  Scully moved up behind him quickly and hugged him back against her even as she lowered his light, allowing Mulder to momentarily see the wide-eyed terror that had gripped him.  His exhaustion demanded his attention, however, and he climbed down several feet so that he would be able to swing the rope easier.  Within several attempts, he maneuvered close enough for the guys to grip him tight enough that he was able to hang onto the ledge where the others pulled him up and secured the rope.

On hands and knees, Mulder groaned and coughed as the abuse his body had suffered over the last two days sank in.

"I thought you said you were okay," Frohike said, hunkering down beside him.

"He's shot," Langly pointed out using his own flashlight to show the tear and wound in Mulder's left shoulder.  "Ugh," he grimaced.  Acid from the clone's own wound had eaten away some additional skin and muscle, leaving Mulder's arm looking gruesome beneath the shredded cloth of his combat fatigues.

Scully had looked up with trepidation at the mention of Mulder being shot from where she had sat with William in her embrace, now wrapped in her blanket.  Meeting Mulder’s eyes, seeing the love, remorse, and relief that radiated from them at her and their son, melted the anger she had harbored at him since he left.  He crawled the several feet that separated them and sprawled on the ground beside her, sighing and resting his head on his arms.

"I knew you'd come crawling back," Scully betrayed more emotion than the sarcasm she intended, allowing her free hand to brush tenderly through his hair.  Mulder hummed a low affirmative in his throat, freeing a hand to place over her own.


	16. Chapter 16

**XVI**

* * *

_“There were many who went in huddled procession,_  
They knew not whither;   
But, at any rate, success or calamity   
Would attend all in equality.”

\- Stephen Crane, _XVII_

* * *

 

Treated and bandaged, Mulder rested as the others managed a climbing rig once Kryder chanced the rope to the surface.  Kryder pulled the lighter party members up by himself and then had them aid him with the rest.  It was still relatively early when Mulder emerged as the last of the group.  They argued over what the next course of action should be while they gave their eyes time to adjust to the difference in light and the devastation that surrounded them. 

“We need to search the area and see if any other survivors made it out of the compound,” Kryder insisted.

“Oh no, they’re going to be swarming this place again by tonight,” Langly countered, peering through his fingers.  “We should head north – the colder the better.  This cold is the only thing these things hate.”

“Survival first, gentlemen,” Skinner inserted himself, raising his hands before their argument intensified.  “We’re going to have to find some heavier gear and more water or we’re not going to be able to do anything for anybody, let alone ourselves.”

“We have to head south,” Mulder stated, joining them.  “We don’t have a choice.”

“Any eruption event that may have been powerful enough to drop this much ash should also be expected to drop the temperature in this area for the year if not several,” Scully joined in.  “What we’re experiencing here… it could just be a temporary plateau before a deeper freeze.” 

“Searching won’t take very long,” Kryder asserted. 

“Even if there are any survivors, Kevin, what help can we afford to give them?”  Frohike frowned as he spoke, looking up into the younger man’s eyes as he poked him in the chest.  “We don’t even have enough supplies for ourselves.  Be realistic, man.”

Byers had been searching through his pack and located a map he spread out in front of him over a fallen tree.  “If we use this location as a landmark, we can reckon dead south and chance the wilderness or make our way out to the Interstate.”

“We lose time heading back to where civilization was, but we won’t find extra blankets in the woods,” Skinner responded.  “The truth is we’re not going to get very far just by foot, especially during this time of year.”

“We’re going to have to risk it,” Mulder conceded, “at least for now.  Let’s head in the direction the town is… was, and go…  Langly was right when he said that we won’t want to be here come nightfall.”

 

**MAIN STREET**

**White Sulphur Springs, West Virginia**

**February 22 nd, 2013**

**3:24 p.m.**

 

The walk into town was disorienting and left them feeling vulnerable in the thick fog mix of melting snow and light ash.  The absent sounds of anything beside their boots scuffing against the pavement and the soft howl of the wind only enhanced their sense of alienation.  Silently, Skinner motioned at the vague outline of a building ahead and indicated that the others needed to be ready with their rifles and to move quietly.  Scully positioned herself within grabbing distance of William’s vest and motioned to Rachel that she should stay close. 

Other building outlines came into view as they moved closer through the eerie silence.  William felt his heart thud hard in his chest and wondered how the others couldn’t hear.  Encouraging himself to stay calm, he jumped when he felt Scully tap his shoulder but shook his head silently once he realized she was wondering if he could sense anyone else nearby.  She gave him an apologetic smile once she realized how much she had frightened him.

Though the town was partially gone, Mulder found himself surprised by how many buildings remained intact given the obliteration the resort had suffered.  White Sulphur Springs itself was not a large place, but he harbored a fool’s hope they might find a store or two along the narrow street meant to cater to the wealthy tourists who had been the backbone of the town’s economy.  Skinner motioned at a small pharmacy and they ducked inside to take a break.  Setting down their packs and resting, Skinner took the point on setting the strategy for their search.  His voice was low when he spoke.

“Okay people, let’s set down priorities.  First – safety.  We search for an hour initially, radioing to Scully halfway.”  Skinner sought Scully’s nod for her acceptance of the role and found it.  “Langly, Byers, Frohike – See if you can find us some type of vehicle, large enough for nine.  We’ll need gas and any type of siphoning equipment you can rig.  It needs to be covered or coverable.”  He paused, considering something for a moment.  “Tell me at least one of you three is handy with a firearm.” 

When none of them met his gaze, Skinner assumed the worst and rubbed his forehead in thought.  “Okay, change of plans.  Kryder, I want you to go with Frohike and Langly.  Byers and I will scout the rest of the street.  We’ll need water, filters – think hosiery, netting, wrap, gauze, and extra layers.  Ammunition, batteries, food, things like rope – useful but nothing we’re short on the moment.  Scully, Mulder – I want you both to stay here with the children and salvage anything you can from this location and the place across the street.  Scully, I trust with your medical knowledge you’ll know what’s worth taking with us and what won’t keep.  Anything we may be able to use for barter down the road would be useful.”

Skinner looked around at his friends to see if anyone had any questions, but they were just nodding in silence.  “We’ll meet across the street in an hour.  Keep alert and stay safe.”

Rachel pulled at Scully’s hand but relented when Kryder flashed her back a smile.  “Stay here.  We’ll be back soon.”

Twenty minutes had passed since the group split up and Scully was busy scavenging prescription medicines to add to her medical kit while Mulder had William and Rachel help him organize water and other supplies they found in the front.  His arm had still not healed.  While thoroughly picked over, the store had still surrendered a respectable pile by the time the others began to radio in. 

Leaving their other supplies at the drug store, they moved across the street to renew their search at what appeared to be a mix between a pawnshop and a bargain outlet.

With an ulterior motive in mind, Mulder felt clever when he managed to unlock the wall safe hidden strategically behind a counter stocked with random items.  Surveying the stashed valuables within the vault, his eyes lit up when he spied a small plastic container.  Flipping it open with his thumb, he smiled to himself and knew in that moment it was just the thing he wanted.  He slipped it in with the rest of his hoard when he heard his son coming from behind.  “You grew up on a farm Will, ever shoot a firearm?” he asked.

Will nodded, feeling apprehensive.  “Yeah, a few times.  Why?”

“When was the last time?”

“Last Fall,” Will admitted sheepishly.

Mulder maneuvered carefully and checked both the magazine and safety on a scoped .22 rifle he had found earlier as a demonstration before handing it to Will along with a sling and a container of BBs.  “I don’t like having to ask you to carry that, but you’ll need it sooner or later.  I hope that we get somewhere soon I can take some time and show you how to sight it in and use it.”  His expression was grim when he cleared his throat so Will would look up at him.  “I know you know what I’m going to say next, but I’m going to say them anyway.  Always treat it as if it’s loaded, never point it at anything you don’t intend to kill, and never put your finger on the trigger unless you mean to shoot.  Never.  Understand?”

William nodded at Mulder solemnly, slipping the sling on the rifle before carefully positioning it over his shoulder.

“Remember those rules.  For now, if we get into a situation, you use it to pretend but only if you can’t find someplace to hide.  Scully will be angry, but tell her I gave it to you if she says anything.”  Will immediately frowned in response, clearly not in favor of invoking Scully’s wrath.  “I can tell you’re a quick study already,” Mulder chuckled.  Quickly picking the rest of the safe clean of useful items, he stowed them in his bag and walked back with Will to the front of the store. 

Scully was gathering a bag of thermal underwear when she spotted the barrel of the rifle hanging above William’s shoulder and paused.  Her eyes immediately flew to Mulder’s, her displeasure apparent in her pursed lips and flared nostrils.  Mulder tilted his head, meeting her gaze straight on.  A moment of silence passed before Scully began to open her mouth, but then she abruptly closed it.  William felt awkward caught in the tense ceasefire. 

Tamping down her temper as she resolved to speak with Mulder about the weapon in private later, she tossed a bag of white thermal garments at each of them.  Mulder’s hit him square in the face before falling into his outstretched hand, but Will found himself reaching and squirming to catch the slippery plastic.

“When in Rome,” she quipped, pointing to the exposed sleeve of her own donned set.

“Do as the Mormons?”  Mulder supplied, grinning.

Scully shook her head at him, closing her eyes.

Scully had just finished helping Mulder slip his coat jacket over his bandaged wound when they heard a vehicle approach outside and cut the engine.  Well hidden, they lowered their weapons when Langly and the others got out of the large passenger van.  The van had the logo of the resort on the side and Skinner came inside while the others began pulling items out of the back. 

“Nice ride,” Mulder greeted him, looking over his shoulder at the white Chevy.

“It’ll have to do with as many as we have – we found it at the garage down the street.  How’d you make out?”

“Good,” Scully said.  “And we’ve got more across the street.”

“Come across any tubing?”

“There’s quite the variety – you might be able to find some in the back,” Scully said, pointing toward the distant aisles.

Frohike came into the store out of breath from helping gut the back seats from the vehicle.  “Spray paint?” he asked.

Scully smiled and pointed again, feeling a bit like a store directory as he left them.

“Camoflage isn’t really going to do us any good,” Mulder commented.

Frohike huffed as he found what he was looking for, quickly grabbing a few items from the shelves.  “This has nothing to do with camouflage,” he insisted, returning their way.  Mulder watched him with raised brows, amused. 

“This is about being badass,” Frohike asserted, chuckling, showing Mulder his haul of grey spray paint and assorted items before he continued outside.

Working as a team, they made quick but careful work of organizing the van to carry everyone and the supplies they scavenged from the town.  Comfort wasn’t even a remote consideration, but the vehicle would function as long as they could keep it fueled and on clear roads.  Skinner wanted to try to find some scrap metal to protect parts of the outside, but decided the time and extra weight doing so would add was not worth it.    

“Yeah, she’s not Matilda,” Langly lamented, “but she’s not half bad either.”  He mourned their lost VW van as he christened the dashboard of the stolen vehicle with a plastic Virgin Mary Frohike had found.

Frohike had Will and Rachel laughing as they helped him spray paint the vehicle and Scully smiled at the rare scene, crossing her arms.  It was a delightful sound she wished she could experience more often. 

“We’re making it look mean,” Frohike whispered to them as if they were conspirators.  Kryder and Langly worked a tarp over supplies they had lashed to the roof and covered it with a mesh net they attached to the interior handholds.  “Grade-A badass,” Frohike declared, standing back to admire their handiwork while patting Will on the back.  Will smiled up at him and then down at Joy, having forgotten the sheer pleasure laughter and silliness itself could bring.

The sky was already growing dark once they were ready to leave and the decision was obvious to shelter in the remains of the town until first light.  Skinner and Byers had come across the entrance to a Cold-War era bunker that had been built beneath the destroyed town hall as they searched for supplies and led the group there. 

“No bodies?”  Mulder queried as they descended the ladder into the manhole. 

“No,” Skinner confirmed, lowering his voice behind him.  “This was the first area the wrecking crew cleared.” 

The wrecking crew had been the unit responsible for burning the bodies of the infected shortly after the attacks began.  Mulder had suspected as much when there were no bodies scattered through town but grimaced at the dark thought anyway.

Scully distributed the rest of her bag of thermals before Byers and Kryder decided they would cook.  The others took the opportunity before it was completely dark for some well-needed shooting practice.  Skinner offered to fill in for Byers so he could join the others.


	17. Chapter 17

**XVII**

* * *

  
_“Among Halverson's belongings, I found a children's book of Norse legends. From what I can tell, the pictures show the end of the world - not in a sudden firestorm of damnation as the Bible teaches us, but in a slow covering blanket of snow. First the moon and the stars will be lost in a dense white fog, then the rivers and the lakes and the sea will freeze over. And finally a wolf named Skoll will open his jaws and eat the sun, sending the world into an everlasting night. I think I hear the wolf at the door.”_

_-_ Dana Scully _, Dod Kalm_

* * *

 

Mulder thought fondly of his Academy days as he listened to Scully instruct the others in basic firearms training while he did his best to sight in Will’s rifle using one arm.  Though the time they had was limited, Scully used it wisely to show them proper aiming and position before turning them loose on a few safe soft targets she and Mulder picked a short distance away in the fog.  

After handing Will’s .22 back to him, Mulder took a minute to guide the Gunmen through reloading.  He turned back to help William only to find Scully already with him, bracing his shoulder as he shot at a dirt mound in the distance.  She was helping him learn how to absorb the recoil without reacting; a bad habit that beginners had a tendency to form.

“Good,” she coached, moving her hand away.  “Now try again, this time with the scope.”  Mulder was relieved to see that she had warmed somewhat to the uncomfortable idea of their son wielding a weapon.  She shared a brief sad glance with him as if she had sensed his gaze.

They shot until cold and the last vestiges of light forced them back beneath the ground.

Dinner was mixed vegetable stew with canned beef, what Kryder insisted with a smirk was a delicacy dish he perfected during his tours overseas.  He moved carefully with the backpacking stove pot, filling each person’s small bowl to the brim.

“Mmm,” Mulder mused after he nearly burnt his tongue on the scalding mix, “when this is all over maybe you guys should open a delicatessen.”

Wrapped in her blanket, Scully grinned about her salty spoonful at Kryder, nearly biting her tongue as she found herself coughing while stifling a laugh.

“Kiss the cook’s ass, Mulder,” Skinner grumbled before he coughed, sitting down carefully with his bowl on a bench.

Frohike nodded over his steaming bowl at Langly.  “Hitting withdrawal, yet?” 

“Oh yeah,” Langly freely admitted, missing his electronics as they ate in companionable silence.  “I’m going to start twitching soon.”  He kicked his leg out and shook his head at odd angles to elicit a knowing grin from Frohike.

Byers was back to consulting his atlases, ignoring his comrades’ hijinks.  “We have a few routes available toward the South if anyone is interested,” he said, his breath hanging on the chilled air.

“Go on,” Skinner encouraged him.

“Assuming we’re going to risk the highways, there are three main routes heading south passing through St. Louis, Dallas, and New Orleans.”  Byers paused, repositioning his glasses.

Skinner tilted his head, watching the younger man question himself.  “Which one do you think is best?” 

“The last,” he said, tracing a finger along the route in his book.  “It moves us south the soonest, and also happens to be the shortest route of the three.” 

“I’m waiting for the but, because you don’t sound convinced,” Skinner prompted him with impatience.

“This route leads us south through the Western Unaka, the Blue Ridge Mountains.  It’s all still part of the Appalachian Basin – we’d be moving through even higher mountains that share the same geologic origins.” 

“More magnetite,” Scully simplified, distressed as she looked to Mulder.

“Yes,” Byers sighed, laying down his books. 

All eyes rested on Mulder.  “I’ll be fine,” he said, setting his bowl aside and standing up.  “Don’t fuss over me.”

Scully chuffed, giving him the eye as she raised her chin.  “What’s wrong with the other routes?” she asked the others. 

Frohike pounded his shirt pocket for effect as some ash dust flew off and illuminated the lamplight cast beside him.  “This is what’s wrong.  St. Louis is almost directly west, so it’s out.  We need to be moving south to get away from this ash.  We can’t keep breathing this stuff or we’re all going to be sick.  What’s the other name for miner’s lung?” he indirectly asked Scully.

“Silicosis,” she supplied.

“He’s right,” Byers agreed.  “It’s also the longest route and we can’t even be sure we’ll be able to stay on the roads with the van.” 

“Okay, the other one?” Scully asked. 

“There’s no cover,” Skinner stated.  “The mountains and magnetite at least offer us some protection.  Lord knows we need it.  We’ll be sitting ducks in that van once we reach the open plains, assuming we make it that far.  I didn’t see the ship that chased us back from to the base, but I know it obliterated everything behind us.”

“Why can’t we fly?” William interjected.

Will had his answer before anyone even replied.  “There’s just too much ash, Will,” Mulder responded, pacing.  “And none of us know how to fly even if we could.”

“Surely there are back roads, foothills, hiking paths between the first route and the one you just talked about,” Kryder said, waving his spoon.  “We’ll improvise.  Hug the ridges if we have to.”

“Let’s take the route through the mountains,” Mulder asserted.  “It’s the quickest and safest.  We’re talking what, twenty-four hours of driving?  If I feel sick, I’ll say something.”

“No you won’t,” Will murmured.

“And there won’t be anywhere to go…  Besides, we know you far better than that, Mulder,” Scully added with wary eyes.  “But you’re right.  And Kryder is right.  We may have to improvise anyway.”

The matter settled and bowls cleared, the team gave themselves what space they could as they unfurled their sleeping pads and bags.

“Off with the shirt and jacket,” Scully told Mulder without pretense, pulling out her medical kit and at the collar of his coat.

“Here, in front of all these people?”  Mulder flashed his most disarming smile at her, fumbling while slowly unbuttoning his coat with his good hand.  “Red-eyed beast woman.”

“Beats manos de piedra, doesn’t it?”  Scully waved her antiseptic wipe in front of Mulder’s nose causing him to snort and shake his head while she smiled at him.  “You’re an ass.”  Her face contorted in a different manner after she helped him disrobe and saw his arm unwrapped.  “Oh, Mulder…  I should have taken time to check this earlier.”

Mulder refused to look.  “That good, huh?”

“Yeah, you’re a mess,” she breathed, turning his arm closer to her headlight to examine it even as he winced.  “You’re not mending, and you tore some of your sutures.  It’s starting to get infected.”

“Not at all?” he asked, looking up at her surprised.

“No…”  Scully saw Kryder watching them and she motioned for him to come over as she felt Mulder’s forehead with the back of her other hand.  He matched her expression as he looked at Mulder’s wound.  “Boil some water?” she asked.  He nodded and began searching for a free pot. 

Will couldn’t help his curiosity as he crept closer to watch.

Mulder called his name to get his attention as he came closer.  “You probably don’t want to see this,” he warned, covering as much of the wound as he could with his free hand.

“No, I’m curious,” Will insisted, angling his head to see past Mulder’s hand and Scully.  “Let me see.”  Mulder sighed, dropping his hand to his knee when Scully placed hers in his. 

“It’s going to be pretty gross, Will,” she informed him.

“He doesn’t really think you have hands of stone, you know,” William reassured her.

“I know,” Scully said, smiling.  “But he might reconsider in a few minutes.”

“She shot me once, you know,” Mulder told Will, poking at the puckered scar on his wounded shoulder.  “Lesson learned.”  Will was surprised to hear the revelation and looked at Scully with a newfound respect. 

“Keep your mouth wide open like that and it will hold this flashlight at just the right angle,” Scully deadpanned, putting a light in his hand.  “I need you to get into the front pouch on my bag over there and get the containers in there.  Can you do that for me, Will?”

Will moved quickly, glad to be of use and was bringing them back when Mulder spotted the eye drops.  Scully was busy removing the sutures Kryder had placed the day before.  “Scully, save those for your eyes.” 

Kryder returned with the steaming pot of water to see Mulder and Scully arguing and set it down to cool.  “Byers’ tea water, at your service,” he announced.  “Better listen to the lady, sir.  You wouldn’t like the alternative.”

“Salt?” Scully asked him. 

“Mixed,” Kryder responded, handing her a new syringe.

“All right.  The eye drops go in the pot.”

“Scully,” Mulder pleaded.

“Salt water and eye drops?  What’s the alternative?” William asked.

“Saline is the medical term for it,” Scully clarified, showing him the saline label on one of the containers as she ignored Mulder.  “It’s good for cleaning wounds if you can supply pressure,” Scully motioned at the syringe.  “The alternative is…”

“A bit gross,” Kryder supplied.  “Ever get stung by a jellyfish?”

William was baffled.  “No.”

“Good, don’t plan on it,” Kryder said, grinning, “because if you get hard up for saline in an emergency situation, you have to deal with the awkward scenario of finding a friend to pee on your wound.”

William recoiled, groaning and grimacing to Kryder’s amusement.

“Okay, okay, we’ll find more eye drops,” Mulder decided.  As Scully turned around to fetch some clean bandages, he lunged forward and grabbed a few bottles of the solution with his right hand.  He casually slipped them behind his back as she turned back and silently dared the others watching him to say anything.

Scully swirled the pot as the rest of the containers were emptied, filled her syringe, and showed Mulder where to brace his arm on the table.  “This is probably going to hurt.  I’m sorry.  Do what you can to keep your arm relaxed so this can penetrate.  Here’s your cue, Will.”  William stepped closer and trained the large flashlight on Mulder’s shoulder.

Scully squirted the warm saline deep into Mulder’s wound while he tried to focus on how cold he was, leaning his head back.  Steam rose from the wound as it drained for a while before she patted it dry.  “Now,” Scully informed them, locating a small spray bottle she had set aside, “we’re going to try something else.”  Moving slowly, she sprayed the contents of the bottle over Mulder’s mangled shoulder from top to bottom and back before carefully wrapping it with fresh dressing. 

“Is that glue?”  William inquired, dumbstruck.

“In a very basic sense, yes.” Scully nodded, batting Mulder’s hand away when he grabbed for his shirt.  “Let that air, and hold still while it sets.  You’re going to have to be careful with this or you’re going to wind up with that peg appendage you’ve always wanted, and I have no desire to play Sawbones,” she said with all seriousness, grabbing her blanket and slipping it around his other shoulder.  “Here.”

Mulder nodded silently, accepting the edges of the blanket to hold.

“Show’s over,” she told Will, doing her best to sterilize the few tools she had used.  “You should try and lie down and get some sleep.  You can bring your bag over here beside us if you want.”

Will shook his head.  “That’s okay.” 

“Warm enough?” Scully asked him.  “I have extra socks and there’s-“

“I’m okay,” William asserted, moving away to his own bag.  “And yes,” he sighed, “I promise I’ll keep my mask on.”

Scully took a few minutes for herself and pulled Mulder’s sweatshirt from her bag to use as a pillow.  Bunching it up, she carefully slipped into her sleeping bag next to Mulder’s.

“Are you going to be able to sleep?” she asked him, slipping on a pair of heavy gloves.  “I can give you something to help with the pain.”

“Nah, don’t waste it on me, Scully.”

“You can’t keep running on a sleep deficit, Mulder,” she chided him.  “You’ve got to be exhausted.  Rest while you can.  Skinner’s awake.”

“You’ve already wasted too much stuff on me.”  Mulder deftly palmed the eye drops he had taken earlier from his pants pocket.

“Don’t do this, Mulder… you have no reason to.  This isn’t about playing the hero.”

“I love the attention, honestly Scully,” Mulder replied, “but I wish the damn thing would just heal already.  Always looking after everyone, it has to wear on you.”  He brought the eye drops out from beneath the cover of his sleeping bag into view.

“Only when my wards act like hemorrhoids,” Scully responded softly, sighing as she saw the bottle.

“Somebody has to doctor the doctor,” Mulder whispered confidentially, carefully opening the solution.  “And you know I love playing doctor, Doc.  Let me, and I promise I’ll take anything you want me to.”

Scully eyed him beyond her spectacles just before she removed them and tilted her head back.  “Oh brother.”

Scully’s eyes adjusted to the lamplight as she woke to the muted shuffle of Kryder’s feet as he moved softly to prepare breakfast.  Her second thought was of mortification when she realized how closely she had snuggled up against Mulder in the night near their friends.  Thinking she might be able to extract herself quietly, Mulder blew her cover when he grumbled low nonsense and hugged her tighter as she tried to move away.  His hazel eyes greeted her warmly when she looked up at him.  

“What’s your rush?” he asked her, running his hand up and down her back.  “You’re warm.  It’s cold.”

“Ugh, sorry,” she said, pulling away to sit up as she removed her gloves and brushed her hair back behind her.  “How embarrassing.”  She shivered as the extra warmth from Mulder’s body left her.

“I’ve got a secret to confess, Scully,” Mulder said behind her, leaning back.  “I think everyone here is on to us.  And… I don’t mind.  Been a while since I’ve got to watch you drool.”

“Shut up,” Scully said, chuckling as she stretched and yawned.  It had been a cold night and the floor beneath the sleeping bags and pads was unforgiving.  Her eyes and airways felt like they were on fire and she was surprised to feel so hungry so soon after their last meal.  “How’s your arm?” she asked, wiping at the sleep beneath her eyes. 

“Bit itchy.  How are your eyes? I see you’re trying not to rub them.”

“Bit itchy, too,” she admitted, looking at him.  “Are they still really red?” 

Mulder groped for his flashlight and shined it near her face.  “Yep, but not quite as bad.”

They both turned their head as Kryder clanked his pot with his spoon.  “Chow’s on, lovebirds,” he announced.


	18. Chapter 18

**XVIII**

* * *

 

_“Hey Scully, should we be picking out china patterns or what?”_

\- Fox Mulder, _Small Potatoes_

* * *

 

Kryder sang absently in a soft baritone whisper as he stared out the passenger window.  “Get yourself a Sweet Madonna, dressed in rhinestones sitting on a… pedestal of abalone shells…  Goin' ninety, I'm not wary, ‘cause I've got my plastic Mary… assuring me that I won't go to Hell…” 

“I wish we could pull off ninety,” Frohike grumbled to the dashboard ornament, driving the van along at a crawl.

Tucked uncomfortably behind him on the floor, Scully reached her hand up and patted the younger man’s shoulder.  “You okay, Kevin?  Need a break?”

He started at her touch.  “Yeah, sorry… getting distracted.  There’s nothing to see.  It’s just a silver curtain out there.”

Near the rear hatch, William silently practiced twisting a screw near his foot.  The van smelled, everyone was uncomfortable, and he was having a hard time not complaining.

Mulder tried not to crack his joints as he attempted to stretch.  “Pull over Frohike, I can drive a while.”

They had left White Sulphur Springs eight hours past, changing drivers every hour or so to avoid the fatigue of watching the road so closely.  They had lost more time than they had anticipated to divert to secondary roads and in stopping twice to remove trees as they travelled south through the Jefferson National Forest.  The last sign they passed had told them they were less than five miles from the “Home of Mountain Dew” Marion, VA and the group decided to find a location there to camp for the evening before they lost daylight.

“Won’t be much longer now, I’ll be okay,” Frohike said dismissively, waving his fingerless glove.  “Fifteen more minutes.”

Awkwardly, Kryder and Scully switched positions in the moving van and Scully immediately understood staring out the window at the berm why it was so difficult to retain focus when her mind threatened to wonder.

“Just help me stay on the road,” Frohike asked. 

Hungry, frozen, dirty, and bored, the party arrived near the town’s outskirts a few minutes later, but the only scene discerned in greeting was one of utter destruction.  The pondered the scene in silence a few moments before Frohike spoke. 

“I’m going to have to turn around, guys,” Frohike told the rest stoically as the road disappeared beneath a thick field of heavy debris.  “How about some map voodoo here, Byers?”  He tried not to sound as dejected as he felt as the others muttered behind him.

Byers already had his headlamp on and was scanning the section of map folded carefully in his lap with a pencil.  “Double back and look for a Snider Branch road going north.  “There’s a state park a few miles north from here we can try.  Hungry Mother?”

Mulder was taken aback by the name.  “Now,” he mused, “that’s fitting.”

“I’m presuming you’ve been there?” Skinner asked.

Mulder nodded as he took a sip from his water bottle.  “My parents took Sam and me camping there a few times on our way to the Carolinas when we were kids,” Mulder responded as Frohike carefully turned the van around.  Mulder stared absently, remembering.  “One of the kids at the lake had me convinced the Hungry Mother was going to eat me while I slept.”

“And who’s the Hungry Mother, besides this guy?” Langly asked.

“Molly Marley and her child escaped after natives raided their settlement.  Wondering down the side of the mountain and along the creek, they found little to eat and she eventually collapsed.  When the child finally wondered into a group of settlers, all the kid could mutter was ‘Hungry Mother.’ So the legend goes.”

Langly coughed as he laughed nervously.  “Well, that’s depressing.”

**HUNGRY MOTHER STATE PARK**

**Marion, Virginia**

**February 23 nd, 2013**

**5:14 p.m.**

Long minutes stretched the bumpy silence past as they entered the park and searched for signs.  Eventually they found their way to a large lodge courtesy of the landscaped markers that provided directions through the park.  They pulled in just as the light began to fade.

“Jackpot,” Frohike announced as he killed the motor.  “Good call, Byers.”

The padlock securing the front door fell before Frohike’s ministrations and the group felt out of sorts walking into the pristine cabin, a stinging reminder of the time before Colonization. 

“Can you believe this place?” Skinner asked, removing his outer coat.  He closed his eyes and groaned with satisfaction as he sank into one of the plush chairs near the fireplace. 

“It looks like we lucked out,” Byers commented, moving to see how many other rooms there were.

“We should get water while there’s light,” Scully said, cutting short their commentary.  “Everyone can wash and change clothes.”  The long ride in the van had made it glaringly obvious how much everyone could use one.  “You fellas can even shave, unless you enjoy looking like bears.”

“I’ll get us some wood,” Kryder volunteered, fluffing his considerable beard with the backs of his covered palms for Scully’s benefit as he walked past, earning himself a disenchanted snort.

“Not by yourself,” Skinner amended, rising with regret.

“We’ll see to the water then,” Mulder said.

Bringing the last of the buckets of water in, Langly held the door for Skinner and Kryder as they each returned with an armful of split wood. 

Scully and Mulder set to treating and filtering the water as the others set to other mundane tasks that were quickly becoming routine. 

“Whoever’s taking first watch ought to get some sleep now,” Skinner advised.

“I’ll do it tonight,” Langly volunteered, slinking his pack over his back and heading for one of the back bedroom cots.  “Wake me up for dinner, will you?”

Though the fresh wood took some skilled coaxing to catch, Kryder and Skinner were persistent and built a respectable fire that was slowly warming the central room between wafts of thick pine and occasional smoke.  Relaxing near it, they spent time showing William, Frohike, and Byers how to clean their weapons.  Rachel seemed content watching the fire and the others.

“Does this place have one of those old-fashioned firepla- aha,” Scully said, noticing the pot hung on its swinging rack near the fire.  “Quaint.”  She cleaned it briefly before quickly adding rice, canned chicken, and mixed vegetables they had found the previous day.  “Keep an eye on that,” she told the others, hanging it near the fire to cook. 

Returning to the kitchen, Scully watched Mulder’s face as he slouched down into a chair briefly before he spotted her.  The last bucket of water was draining through the sediment filter they had improvised through a crate and netting.  “You could have waited, you know.  You’ve been putting on a pretty good show,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.

“Thanks,” Mulder chuckled, stretching his neck until he winced.  “It wasn’t so bad until those pills you gave me wore off.”

“I have more,” Scully said, producing a small bottle from her coat pocket.  She slipped two pills into his outstretched hand.  “I’ll have to switch you to something less potent if it doesn’t ease up soon.”

“Duly noted, Doc,” he replied, popping them into his mouth.

“Alright, Indian Guide,” she queried, looking him up and down as he drank from his water bottle.  “What’s the best way to turn some of this frigid lake into a nice bath?”

“Hmm,” Mulder considered, enjoying the moniker she rarely employed as he crossed his arm over his chest and balled his fist.  “Indian Guide says run to Builders’ Surplus and buy a submersible heat pump.”  He narrowed his eyes at her and smirked.

“You’re useless,” Scully sighed, rolling her eyes as Mulder broke his pose and grinned up at her.  “What I wouldn’t give to just… soak,” she lamented.

“Okay, okay,” Mulder said, standing and grabbing one of the buckets.  “Let’s go for a walk.”

Will looked up hopefully as Mulder and Scully told the others where they were going and to expect them back shortly.  He looked crestfallen and ready to argue when Mulder silently shook his head at him.  “We won’t be gone long,” he said. 

“So, what are we doing out here, Mulder?” Scully asked, swinging the empty bucket through falling snow. 

“We… are looking for potboilers,” Mulder informed her, scanning the ground with his flashlight.

“Okay,” Scully declared.  “Enlighten me.”

“You heat the rocks and then put them in the tub with some water.  The water heats up as you transfer heat in.  Takes a while, can’t do the whole thing at once.”

“Ah,” Scully said, grasping the thermodynamics.  “A Poorboy’s submersible heat pump.”

“You got it,” Mulder continued as they walked through the woods behind the cabin.  “So we want solid rocks that will heat up, preferably without exploding.”

“You know,” Scully admitted as she bent down to pick up a stone, “When I whined back there, I didn’t really expect to get a decent bath out of it.”    

“I know,” Mulder answered, stooping to get a rock of his own.

“You’re being awfully nice,” Scully said, prompting him as she adjusted her scarf over her facemask.  “You’re not usually nice when you’re sick.”  The snow was coming down quickly in larger, thick flakes now.

“Besides the obvious, I owe you an apology,” Mulder said softly, looking up as he noted the shift in weather.  “I gave Will that rifle without talking to you about it.”

Moving forward, Scully knew now why Mulder hadn’t wanted Will to tag along with them.  “I was really upset about it when I first saw him with it – he looked like a child soldier,” she admitted, placing another rock in the bucket.  “But once I thought about it longer, I realized that my brothers had received their first rifles when they were about his age… And I realized you wouldn’t have given it to him unless you made sure he understood about safety.  It’s better he has it and learns how to use it.”

Mulder was nodding silently beside her.

“I was fine with it then… until after we finished target practice,” Scully continued.  “Then I realized I had taught our eleven-year old son where to aim yesterday, Mulder, to kill someone.”  Unexpected tears clouded her vision and she quickly swiped at them with her glove beneath her goggles.  “He deserves so much better than to live his life in constant fear.”

“I know, Scully,” Mulder agreed.  “We all do.”  He paused, searching for what to say.  “You’re the strongest person I know.”

“Oh, Mulder,” she chuffed dismissing him, shaking her head.  “I’m here crying.  I should be dehydrated from crying.  I’m not strong.”

“No.  You are, Scully, really, I mean that.  We’re all adapting the best we can.  Better to bend and cry than to break.”  Coming from behind, he set down the bucket and wrapped his arm around her shoulder pulling her toward him in a hug for emphasis.  “Don’t give up,” he whispered in her ear before he nuzzled her neck, “remember.”  He would have kissed the sensitive spot on the edge of her collarbone had her coat collar but allowed him access.

Scully nodded slowly, closing her eyes.  “I won’t.”

Leaning his head against hers, Mulder spotted something past them on the ground and pointed his light at it.  “Hey, hold still.”

“What do you see?”  Scully opened her eyes and strained to see what Mulder’s light was illuminating.  Mulder bent and grabbed a rock from the bucket and tossed it at the offending object once he drew closer.  The spiked iron teeth of the bear trap snapped shut once the rock tripped the pan.  “Damn,” Scully said, surprised.  “I would have walked right into it.  If Will had been here with-”

“Then one of you could have had my peg leg,” Mulder deadpanned.  “These traps are illegal.  This shouldn’t even be here,” he said hunching down, running his hand over the ground.

“Do you think it’s recent?” Scully asked, scanning the forest and the ground surrounding them a bit closer than she had been with her own light.  Just when she dropped her guard, something happened to trip her sense of paranoia.

“I hope not,” Mulder said, digging the rest of the antique out with its chain.  He placed it on top of the other rocks along with the one he threw before picking the bucket up as he backed up, nodding back toward the lodge as he flexed his eyebrows for his partner.  “Could be our last night in Virginia, Scully and you know… they say Virginia is for lovers.” 

Scully bit her lip and shot him a look as she cast her light over the path back, not in the least surprised by his tactics.  “Well, _lover_ ,” she emphasized walking past him, “we have to heat up the rocks before we can get them off.”

Mulder snorted helplessly behind his mask, laughing at his partner’s unexpected lewd pun.  “Oh, Scully… touché,” he drew out as he turned to follow. 

“I’ll always keep you guessing, Mulder,” she called back.

The others were finishing the stew Scully had started earlier when she and Mulder arrived back, letting a burst of cold wind and dirty snow in before she got the door shut.  An intense game of Checkers was transpiring between William and Kevin. 

“Here Skinman, brought you a present,” Mulder announced, pulling the bear trap from its place by its chain. 

Skinner, half-asleep in the chair he had occupied before, woke with a start and turned his head along with the others to Mulder where the wet iron dripped rusty water unceremoniously, half-illuminated.

“Is that what I think it is?” he asked, squinting sans spectacles.

Mulder nodded, bringing it closer so Skinner could take it. 

“Where did it come from?” he asked, examining it, ignoring the way the cold metal was quickly numbing his hands.

“Just behind the cabin here,” Mulder explained.  “It was set in the woods.  We got lucky and spotted it before one of us needed a prosthetic.”

Frohike whistled.  “Damn, that’s a big trap.”

Skinner frowned, wondering where it had come from.  “How’s the weather?”    

“Coming down in buckets,” Scully said, taking Mulder’s from him.  

“Damn,” Skinner agreed.

The rocks were heating slowly, buried in the coals close to the center of the fire.  Stew finished with mixed fruit cocktail dessert.  The nutritional value wasn’t much to Scully’s liking, but she knew it wasn’t worth dwelling over what she could not help.  She resolved to stop worrying about such things for the time being, knowing she would make herself sick otherwise.

Checkers turned into games of Battleship thanks to the creative use of a marker as the night wore on.  As each of the band turned in, their number in the central room dwindled to just Frohike, William, Rachel, Mulder, and Scully.  William’s celebration of a sunken destroyer marked his victory in their latest fray and he placed a hand over his toothy smirk at Joy.  She had silently assisted him from her location near Frohike but betrayed nothing.  Mulder was not nearly as modest, shouting, “Admiral Toto goes down!” before Scully hushed him while she addressed his wound.

Frohike threw up his hands in defeat before he yawned, none the wiser.  “Accept my flag, General Bullfrog.  Your kung-foo reigns supreme… today.  But know this, young sailor,” he eyed William, narrowing his eyes to thin slits.  “I have many fleets that sail these storied checkered waters and now they all know your name.”

William grinned at the older man and the prospect of their eventual rematch even as he whined in protest.  “Awww, come on.  One more game,” he pleaded.

Frohike cast his eyes aside before looking to Mulder and Scully seated together on the couch.  “I’ll tell you what,” he told the children. “Have you ever heard the story of the legendary man-of-action, ‘El Lobo?’”

Mulder stifled a laugh on the couch as Will shot him a questioning look and Frohike winked at him over his shoulder.

“I’ll tell you a tale before I pass out if you go get ready for bed,” Frohike promised.

Will rose quickly and disappeared with Rachel to the room they were splitting.  He avoided Mulder and Scully, still upset they had not included him in their excursion. 

Miming elaborate handgun gestures, Frohike silently mouthed, “You owe me big time” at his friends before disappearing down the hallway.  He reappeared embarrassed a moment later, his grand moment ruined.  “Make sure one of you gets Langly up before you, uh… go to bed,” he said awkwardly, turning back.

Mulder cast Scully a coy smile once Frohike was gone, staring down at her through heavy lids while she wrapped his arm in new medical gauze.  The only sound beside the wind beating the windows and side of the lodge was the sizzle and occasional pop of the fire and heating stones.  The light came by the fire and oil lamp that burned low nearby, casting them in alternating shades.

“You really did forget, didn’t you?” Mulder asked, staring down at his partner.  “All day I thought you were just being humble,” he shook his head at her, “but you really did.”

“Forget what,” Scully asked innocently, feeling absently beside her for her tape.  She was distracted and tired.  She was sad Will was feeling hurt.

“For once, you’re the one who missed your birthday,” Mulder said.

Scully’s head snapped up before she caught herself and shook her head, exhaling.  “Oh.  I thought you were going to say something important.”  She patted his side once she sealed the tape to let him know she was done.  “You’re set,” she said, though her hand lingered.

“Thank you,” he said, meeting her eyes before he cast them toward his jacket and back.  “Would you mind reaching for my jacket for me?” he asked, nodding his head past his shoulder.  “It’s a bit chilly.”

Scully considered his question a moment as she rose before she stretched over him, reaching behind him to grab the garment.  “Okay, I’m humoring you,” she let him know, the fabric of her shirt pooling before him.

“Thank you,” he said again, grabbing her by the hips as she returned, drawing her down to sit in his lap. 

Scully found herself giggling even as she sighed at him.  “Really,” she said.  “Mulder.  Is this my birthday present?”  She debated how she might make him pay for his audacity.  Throwing his jacket across the room crossed her mind.

Trailing his hand up her side, Mulder moved his hand along her shoulder and arm before he placed it over hers where it rested on his coat collar.  The worn leather jacket had been to hell and back, just like Mulder.  “Hips before hands if you recall, Scully, but let’s celebrate anyway.  It’s not every day your partner turns thirty-three.”

“Twenty-nine,” Scully said with absolute authority, leaning back against him, deciding the end of the modern progression of the Gregorian calendar was not such a bad thing.

“Thirty-three,” Mulder reasserted, grinning.  “I thought we could follow up to thirty-two this time…  It’s the first time I acknowledged just how deep my feelings for you had grown.”

Tilting her head, Scully questioned him silently, touched he had remembered even if she was missing his reference.  He always had a way with numbers and memories she had never possessed.  “I had just received my cancer diagnosis.  Mulder…”

“I know this place doesn’t quite have the ambiance of the Headless Woman, but…” Mulder reached with Scully’s hand into one pocket to produce a package of Hostess Snowballs from beneath his jacket.  “Tada.”

“Mulder,” Scully laughed, nonplussed as she grabbed the package, having expected another.  “Snowballs… Really.  You shouldn’t have…  No sparkler this time?” she asked.

“Well, they didn’t have the regular kind,” Mulder pouted, reaching back into his jacket.  A stone cracked in the fireplace, momentarily drawing their eyes to the fire before they returned to their exchange.  “You’ll have to settle for second best.”

Scully’s eyes narrowed and she suppressed her smile, waiting for whatever cheap, goofy gift he had found her, anticipating his worst.  “I thought you only liked to celebrate birthdays on dog years,” she said, recalling a faint memory.

“Give or take, I’d call this a dog year,” Mulder clarified, returning from his expedition with a small white box similar to the one he had presented her Apollo keychain to her with so long ago.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she echoed, giggling helplessly as she laid her eyes on the box.  Had Mulder found her a new keychain?

“Not this time,” Mulder spoke softly against her ear, leaning into her as he held the box out in front of them with his palm.  The shift in his tone and his breath against her ear sent Scully’s heart racing and a shiver down her spine.  Was it because she felt Mulder’s own heart suddenly beat a double cadence behind her? “Go ahead, open it.”

Scully reached out slowly and delicately for the box lid, briefly forgetting the Snowballs, forgetting everything.

“It’s just something that reminded me of you,” he said.  “Indestructible.  Incorruptible… beautiful, and completely genuine.  Pliny said they even baffle poison, dispel fear, and stave off insanity.” 

Scully laid her eyes on the stunning diamond ring she had uncovered and gasped.  It was the last thing she had expected.  “Mulder,” she choked out, “Wow… I never thought…”

Setting the box down, Mulder pulled the ring from its resting place and positioned it between his fingers, lifting it up to catch the light.  “I know we’ve played at it enough off and on through the years, in Arcadia, when we ran, and if you go by common law it was a done deal long ago, but…” Mulder leaned in so he could gaze straight into her eyes.  “Say it’s forever, you and me.”

“It’s forever,” Scully confirmed, nodding up at him, feeling tears of happiness as she felt his relieved sigh reverberate through her.  “You’re stuck with me.  Always, Mulder.”

Mulder slipped the ring over the fourth finger of her left hand with her help.  It was a bit too large but she would figure it out later.  “I know we’ve never needed rings to show our relationship to the world, but… with Will back in our lives, with everything else that’s been broken or destroyed, it just… feels right, like something you can put your back up against.  Though much is taken, much abides.”

Scully finished Mulder’s thought as she admired the adornment on her finger, smiling at the absurd ring and at the notion of traditional marriage compared to what she and Mulder already shared.  “That which we are, we are.  One equal temper of heroic hearts, made weak by time and fate, but strong in will, to seek, to find, and not to yield.” 

Mulder shared a tight-lipped grin with her even as his eyes danced.  He was very pleased with himself and was doing a half-hearted job of hiding it.

“Touché, Mulder,” Scully conceded happily, wrapping her arms around his neck before she drew his lips down to meet hers.  “This might be… the best… birthday present,” she murmured between their kisses.

“Oh, you thought that was the present?  That wasn’t the present,” Mulder teased, breathless.  He wrapped his arms around her as he rose, lifting her against him as he stood. 

Langly was startled awake by a sharp boot knocking against his bedroom door and the sound of… muted laughter?  He shook his head as the fog of sleep cleared; positive he had been having an intense dream.  Jade Blue Afterglow would haunt him forever.

“You’re on watch, Scarecrow – I’ve got rocks to attend to,” Mulder’s voice drifted away.


	19. Chapter 19

**XIX**

* * *

  
_“Behold, from the land of the farther suns I returned._  
And I was in a reptile-swarming place,   
Peopled, otherwise, with grimaces,   
Shrouded above in black impenetrableness.   
I shrank, loathing,   
Sick with it.   
And I said to him,   
"What is this?"   
He made answer slowly,   
"Spirit, this is a world;   
This was your home."

\- Stephen Crane, _XXIX_

* * *

 

_“Ma-e-yáázh.  Fox Cub.  You have seen the end of the Fifth World, the Sixth Extinction.  You stand now between two worlds like your Father did once, unsure of which way to go.  One way is death in the world below.  You were nearly taken before the one they called Jeremiah came for you and now Death watches you because you have seen him.  The other way is yet unknown to you, to any of us, to the Sixth World.  I have come from the world below to guide you.”_

_William found himself waking to the unfamiliar man’s voice as he rose in field he had dreamed of before, on the hill.  An unnatural image near the horizon let him know he was dreaming, as he viewed the beach, the dandelions, and the lake he witnessed interchanging before him below along with other images he could not discern._

_“Who are you?  What does it mean?” Will heard himself ask aloud.  In the span of his question, the dandelions at his feet withered, became seed, and blew away, only to decompose and rise again._

_“It is the world in flux, and you may call me Albert.”_

_“I don’t know where we’re supposed to be going,” Will said.  “Should I know you?”_

_“You do not know me, but I am known to your family.  I have watched over you a long time now.”_

_In his mind’s eye, Will saw the older man praying with Scully in her apartment and performing a sand ritual as he chanted over Mulder’s broken body when he lay covered in grasses.  He saw Albert pray over Scully, no, his Aunt, as she lay dying.  Albert Hosteen helped translate the symbols that appeared on the alien ship located in Africa.  In a dark motel room lit by illuminated water, he listened to a younger Mulder tell Scully about the power of the dead as though he were there while Albert stood nearby._

“I want to believe that the dead are not lost to us.  That they speak to us as part of something greater than us - greater than any alien force.  And if you and I are powerless now, I want to believe that if we listen to what's speaking, it can give us the power to save ourselves.”

_“Listen now,_ _Ma-e-_ _yáázh_ _.  Just as you have seen glimpses of the world before and after you, and as I have told your mother before you.  There are more worlds than the one you can hold in your hand,” Albert told him.  “In very early times before the Earth was whole, there were many creatures including dark mists and Insect People.  These beings coexisted with First Man and First Woman until they began to fight with each other.  Then, the people left and ascended to a new world before they came here, but the dark mists and Insect People remained behind.  These are now the things that have returned to hunt man._

_The sun no longer crosses the sky, nor the moon.  The rain is bitter, and the crops cannot grow.  The monsters have nearly killed everyone as the world lays broken.”_

_Will felt overwhelmed.  “What can I do?”_

_“You must travel south and make appeals to the Elders for assistance.  You must remain mindful of the many dangers that surround you.  There are many.”_

_Will felt the man’s presence diminish and turned to see he was gone.  He looked at the images before him, confused.  Then everything began to shatter and Will felt himself screaming for the man to wait as he began to fall through the ground he had just been standing on._

_‘Wake up, Will!’_

Joy was shaking his shoulder as he woke with a start.  Will felt the empathy behind her thoughts as she told him to breathe slowly.   

Scully slid a few inches further down into the water until only her head and neck lay exposed, warming her chest.  Mulder had just finished combing her hair and she leaned back against him.

“Thank you.”

Bringing his arms around her, Mulder hugged her back against his stomach as he murmured his response into her hair.  “It’s been a long time since we’ve got to do this.”  He kissed the top of her head, briefly missing the scent of her old shampoo.  “It’s been years since Lisbon,” Mulder recalled, closing his eyes.

“Was it Lisbon?” Scully questioned thoughtfully.  “I vaguely remember being Rene and Georgette, and that we drank entirely too much wine… And that you owed me big time.”

“Mmmhmm,” Mulder affirmed.  “We’d just come south from Paris, where I did my best to destroy every romantic notion of the city you ever held.” 

“You had that horrible beret, and you drug me down into the catacombs with that horrible ‘guide’, whatshisname.”  Scully found herself chuckling as she closed her own eyes and briefly remembered what might have been Mulder’s worst disguise.  “Then… he got us lost.  We were on the run from some of the world’s finest and you were going to do us in for them.”

“Hey, we eventually found our way out,” Mulder took care to point out, as if it made every other part of the ordeal okay.

Scully sighed at his justification.  “At least the lights were nice.”

“Being on the lam wasn’t half bad,” Mulder said, playing his fingers along the sensitive side of her stomach.  He reconsidered when Scully tensed and gave him a look that said she was not convinced.  “Sometimes,” he relented.  She rolled her eyes for his benefit.

“Hey,” he changed the subject, ”DJ or live band?”

“Excuse me?” Scully was trying not to focus on where Mulder’s fingers were roaming.

“For the wedding.”

“Mmm,” Scully responded, relaxing again.  “…a string quartet for the ceremony, but a fun DJ for the reception.”

“I always thought it would be fun to do the chair dance.”  Seeing that Scully was not following, he explained further.  “The bride and groom are hoisted into the air on chairs while well-wishers swirl around them.”

“Sounds copacetic.  I know I could go for smashing some wedding cake in your face.”

“I’d be down for that,” Mulder whispered in her ear.  “Just remember, turnabout is fair play.”

Patting his knee, Scully unwrapped herself from his embrace, stood up slowly, and immediately regretted it as the cold air enveloped her.  She wrapped herself in her towel quickly before grabbing and holding Mulder’s open for him as she smiled.  “Oh, I know.”

He snatched it from her gratefully as he rose and wrapped himself with it, nearly tap-dancing once his feet touched the frigid floor.

Most of the others were eating oatmeal quietly in the main room once the pair emerged from the bathroom.  They avoided the glances the others cast them and helped themselves to servings from the pot resting near the fireplace. 

“Don’t look outside,” Frohike informed them when they sat. 

Before either could turn their head, Skinner said, “Don’t bother.  We’re snowed in.”

Scully found herself taking a deep breath.  “Well, at least we’re well stocked for two weeks, if not more.”

Skinner cast her a wry smile but his expression changed abruptly when a rolling motion began slowly rocking the Earth beneath them.  “What the hell?”

They waited through the tremors, casting each other worried glances.  Finally, the tremors slowed further and then ceased. 

“Earthquake?” Langly asked as he regained his sense of equilibrium. 

“That was odd,” Frohike said. 

Byers looked perplexed.  “It’s been years since we’ve had an earthquake.”    

“Everyone okay?” Scully asked, looking around.

Mulder held out his bowl.  “I think I spilled a bit of my oatmeal.”

Easing down on her knees, Scully sat beside William near the fireplace and restored the blanket to his shoulders that had fallen down.  He silently thanked her with a half-smile.  She returned his smile, but could not help but worry when she saw the dark circles embedded below his eyes.

The hours wore by as the fire crackled.  Skinner and Kryder decided to try their hand at hunting and had been gone since early afternoon.  On the floor, William had progressed through several rounds of Battleship with Mulder and now stared across the improvised divider at the mirrored shades of Scully’s gaze.  Rachel sat beside Will and was no longer helping him by his request.  The game had reached a tense stand-off between their last remaining ships.

“E-7,” William said confidently. 

Scully smiled triumphantly without looking at her board.  “Miss.”

Will’s eyes betrayed his surprise before he could mask it.  He was sure he had cornered Scully. 

“B-4,” Scully declared.    

William’s head sunk to his chest as he muttered to himself, hating the sense of loss.  “I’m sunk,” he said in his sullen monotone.

Scully’s heart went out to him even as she smiled to herself with her victory.  “There’s always next time, Ishmael.”

The door opened then and Skinner and Kryder entered, the later carrying a string with two dead rabbits.  Standing and brushing herself off, Scully assessed the pair and grimaced at the thought of having to clean the game.  Dead rabbits made her uneasy.

Noting her response, Kryder found himself smiling.  “Don’t worry, Ms. Scully, I’ll clean them up.”

Catching herself sighing in relief, she cast Kevin a glance in gratitude.

Skinner hung his coat on a hook near the door and sunk down into his favored recliner near the fire.  He was clearly hurting, though Scully saw how he tried to cover for it.  “Sir, are you okay?” she asked. 

Skinner quickly glanced at the ceiling.  “I’m fine.”

“Okay, okay,” Scully relented, making a mental note to check on him later. 

From his location on the couch, Mulder finally raised the question that had played through his mind since Kryder and Skinner returned.  “Tell me you saw more than just those rabbits while you were out.”

“I wish we would have,” Skinner replied, covering his eyes with the back of his arm.  “We shouldn’t have gone out.”

“You couldn’t know what you would find,” Scully said in consolation.  She eyed the dusty hare and wondered if it would be safe to eat.

 

**SOUTHBOUND ON I-81**

**Outside of Knoxville, Tennessee**

**February 27 th, 2013**

**10:13 a.m.**

Frohike was growing more and more agitated as they passed time in the back of the van. 

“You need some Metamucil, or what?” Mulder finally asked, staring at him intently.

Frohike frowned and silently handed Mulder a small device he detached from his vest.  “We need to head west.  Now.”

Mulder saw the device was a Geiger counter as he viewed it and grew alarmed as he saw the reading.  He heard his own voice raise softly, “Go west, Byers.”

Trying not to wake the others, Byers looked back over his shoulder to whisper.  “What’s going on?  We don’t want to leave the mountains yet.”

“Yeah we do,” Mulder replied.  “Just take the first exit you can.”

“What’s happening?” Scully mumbled, waking as she raised her head from Mulder’s shoulder.

Will was in the passenger seat, helping Byers navigate the road.  “There’s radiation,” he said, absently prying.  “It’s too strong to continue this way.”

“Oh shit…  Excuse me,” Byers said, quickly catching himself.  Will watched his grip tighten on the steering wheel.  “My atlases are in my bag, Mulder.  Can you-”

“Yeah,” Mulder confirmed, scrambling for the bag.  “Just give me a minute.”    

“What if I turn around?” Byers asked. 

“Keep going, just cut north,” Frohike said.  “We don’t have anything to go back to.”

“Where is it coming from?” Scully asked, reaching for her bag.  “How high are the readings?”

“Don’t worry,” Mulder said, “They’re not too high yet, but we need to move away.”  He pulled Byers’ atlas from his bag and had it open to Byers’ bookmark within a few seconds.

“Mulder?  High enough for iodine tablets?”

Mulder looked up shaking his head absently before meeting her gaze.  “Let’s see if it gets worse first.  We don’t want to take them unless we have to.”

“Find me a road, Mulder,” Byers called back.  Everyone else who had been asleep was awake now.

“There’s an exit,” Will pointed out as a sign along the road came into view.  “Ten miles more.”

“I can still turn around,” Byers said. 

“Don’t waste the gas,” Skinner said, stretching.  “Keep going, but fill up now if we’re low.  We don’t want to get in deep and then need to stop.”

“What’s putting off so much radiation?” Kryder asked. 

Frohike reached near Mulder’s lap and took the Geiger counter back so he could watch the readings as they fluctuated.  “There’s a cluster of nuclear facilities just south of us.  You let nuclear sites go for months unattended and this is what you get.  Think Chernobyl, Fukushima, except all over.  A few of them may have been reduced to cold storage, but most places-” Frohike shook his head and stared down at the device.

An uncomfortable silence fell in the van.  Will watched his breath crystallize before him and wondered how radiation could be so dangerous when you couldn’t even see it. 

 

**I-40 WEST**

**Outside of Nashville, Tennessee**

**February 27 th, 2013**

**3:26 p.m.**

Skinner checked his weapon again.  “Everyone needs to be awake and alert as we go through the city.  We have a tactical disadvantage not being able to see out the back of this thing, not to mention that we will be an obvious slow-moving target.  Clearly, it’s not a good position to be in.”

 

“Let’s skirt around it,” Langly suggested.  “Don’t even go near the city.” 

Kryder was driving now.  “How are we for supplies?  If we don’t need any, we should go around.  Skinner was right that we’re an easy target.  The highways coming out of the city will be jammed with cars.”

“It’s better to risk scavenging if we can,” Scully argued.  “We could hit another area with radiation and there’s going to be wider stretches of road between places as we continue on.  We could wind up holed up for another few days, even without snow.  It’s better to stock up if we can.”

The radiation readings had declined considerably in the last ten minutes and Frohike sighed a sigh of relief.  “For what it’s worth, the radiation has dropped.  And who says we can’t do both?  Skirt the city, but look for places we check out for supplies.  Seems simple enough.  Find the traffic jam on the other end and we can fill up the gas cans.”

“Sounds good to me,” Byers said.  He was more comfortable minding the maps than driving.

“Sounds ridiculous,” Skinner said, looking past them out the windshield.  “Keep going toward the city for now, Kryder.  We’ll hit the jam coming out the eastbound lanes.  Then we skirt around and just keep going.  Everyone eat something while it’s warm and we still have some daylight.”

Grey cars stretched down the grey lanes in unnatural silence as most of the party walked with their weapons and the gas containers down the freeway.  From the other end of the divider, Frohike watched with William and Rachel from the driver’s seat prepared to cover their position as far as he could still tail them with his scope. 

Skinner recoiled as he inadvertently looked down into a cracked windshield they passed.  The remains of the driver were split open where the creature it spawned escaped into world.  He wouldn’t have recognized the site if he didn’t understand what had transpired.   

Fingers snapped behind him.  “Walter.”   

Skinner looked up from the distraction to Kryder’s softening expression and caught himself.  “Try to put it out of your mind.  Let’s get the gas and get out of here.” 

They set to siphoning gas from the first car’s gas tank while Mulder took a crow bar and popped a nearby trunk release.  He looked briefly over his shoulder before he took the suitcase in the trunk and tossed it on the other side of the car where Scully wouldn’t see him rummage through it. 

The clasps popped open and clothes fell out onto the road.  He sighed in disgust and flashed his light into the trunk looking for more useful items. 

“People never pack what they should,” Skinner said, holding the gas tank and hose as Kryder pumped. 

“Someone should have,” Mulder said, moving to the next car.  He gasped in horror once he saw the remains of a family in the back seat and raised the back of his hand to his mouth as he caught a whiff of decomposition.   

“You okay, Mulder?”  Scully had heard him. 

Mulder nodded absently as he moved to the trunk, waving a hand in dismissal.  He looked back to where Frohike was sitting in the van with the kids and reassured himself.  He made short work of the trunk mechanism but leapt back once the hood lifted to expose a decomposing body lying in a pool of Black Oil.  Jeremiah’s warning sounded in his head and he quickly shut the door again.  The sound of strong thunder in the distance commanded his eyes skyward. 

“Quick,” Byers prodded, “We won’t want to be out here if it starts to pour.”  He deftly spun the cap onto the container of gas he and Scully had filled.

The party heard Frohike wolf whistle and point skyward as the thunder sounded a second time, closer and louder.  “Let’s go,” he hollered as he slapped the side of the van.  He began moving the van closer to their position on the other side of the divide. 

**MEEMAN-SHELBY FOREST STATE PARK**

**Outside of Memphis, Tennessee**

**February 28 th, 2013**

**1:22 a.m.**

“How do you ignore them?” Will asked.

“The voices?” Mulder asked.

“Yeah,” Will said.

Will had joined Mulder near the dying coals of their campfire.  Sitting with his back to the warmth, Mulder scanned the forest nearby for signs of movement as he heard the wind rustle.  He was rotating his arm slowly but winced when he heard Will sneeze.  He abandoned preserving his night vision to confirm the boy was still wearing his facemask.  His worry for his son was constant.

The detour north had kept them from Memphis completely and Mulder briefly wished he had the opportunity to show Will Graceland.  His fingers moved absently over his mended collarbone.

“I couldn’t, when I could hear them well,” he responded, extending a handful of sunflower seeds to the boy.  “There were a series of rubbings taken from a spacecraft that seemed to trigger it for me.  The Smoking Man you’ve seen in your dreams… he had a surgery performed on me and then I lost most of my ability to hear them.  It would have killed me if I hadn’t been abducted myself.  Now I’m just a tin man.”

‘But you hear me, still?’ Will tested.

‘You, sometimes Scully.  I’ve always had a strange intuition about things, though,’ Mulder responded.  “I’ve wondered lately if the two were related.”

“Having trouble with it?” Mulder asked out loud.  When Will didn’t answer, Mulder looked over to see the blood had drained from Will’s face.  The boy was staring raptly into the forest.

“Will?” 


	20. Chapter 20

**XX**

* * *

  
_“And I may be obliged to defend_  
Every love, every ending  
Or maybe there’s no obligations now  
Maybe I’ve a reason to believe  
We all will be received in Graceland”

\- Paul Simon, _Graceland_

* * *

 

Mulder felt the word before he heard Will utter, “They’re cannibals.” 

“Get inside and warn the others, then get in the van and put on your vest,” Mulder told Will in a hurried whisper.  “How far off are they?  Can you tell how many?” 

William paused and focused again as he was turning for the small office some of the others were sleeping in.  “A lot.  Won’t be long.”

Mulder was already on his feet, flipping over a picnic table near the van.  He smacked his hand on the back door to alert the Gunmen, who were sleeping inside.  “Wake up, we’re getting company.”

Langly threw open the back door.  “Dude, do we have time to bail?”

Mulder shrugged.  The snap of a branch from near the road they had traveled in on told him otherwise as he ducked by the table.  “I don’t think so.” 

Frohike found himself pushing past Langly and Mulder with his rifle as he exited the van.  “They decided to mess with the wrong badass.”  He hunkered down behind the overturned table beside Mulder and flashed the inside of his vest, which held a series of makeshift incendiaries.  “I know kung-foo.”

Mulder’s eyebrows peaked.  “How long have you been carrying those around?”

Kryder burst out the door of the ranger station followed by Scully and the others.

Scully ushered Will and Rachel into the van before she hunkered down by Mulder’s left side and checked her weapon.  “What’s the plan?”

Mulder was the only one facing in the right direction to see the Molotov cocktail ignite as it came arcing toward the ranger station from the forest.  “Everybody get down!” he yelled.  Grabbing Scully by the arms, he spun as he pulled her so he could shield her between himself and the table.

The jar exploded once it hit the roof of the station and the marsh surrounding the party lit up in brightly reflected shades of orange and amber.  Releasing Scully, Mulder unleashed a quick barrage of gunfire toward the direction the item had come from before Kryder did the same near the front of the vehicle.  He couldn’t tell if he hit anyone but a rapport of gunfire responded.  He ducked back behind the others between the van and the barricade.

A man’s screams erupted from the swamp in front of them as several other men dimly came into view charging and crawling toward them with rifles and clubs.  Scully picked a few off deftly from her protected position behind the table as Kryder slid up from beside the hood.  Frohike had a Machiavellian gleam in his eye as he tossed a few of his improvised grenades toward approaching figures. 

Mulder turned when he heard Will’s rifle crack from the driver’s side window and slipped around the side of the van.  “What the hell are you doing?  Get inside!” he barked, but Will was undeterred.  Another man screamed in the distance.  “I can zero in on them,” Will said.  “They want us alive.  Watch out!” 

Distracted by Will, Mulder hadn’t seen the men running full-tilt toward him until one was swinging a bat at Mulder’s head.  Spinning, Mulder caved in the man’s face with the butt of his rifle before he fell, catching the other who had launched himself toward Mulder’s back wielding a knife.  Rolling with the would-be assassin over the ground, Mulder pinned him when he had the advantage and pounded the man’s arm against the ground until he lost his grip on his blade.  Coolly, he grabbed the sides of the man’s head and twisted it violently until he heard the distinct snap of the man’s neck.

Grabbing his weapon as he stood, Mulder opened the door to push Will back and climbed in.  “I told you to get inside,” Mulder barked.  “Now do as I say and get everyone else!”

“Shit, how many are there,” Langly shouted as he opened a spotlight to blind the approaching front.  Byers crouched beside him and fumbled with his weapon.

One of Frohike’s explosives detonated, lighting up a group of men as it dealt severe damage.  He lobbed another overhand as far as he could in the same direction.  “Alamo, assholes!” 

Skinner shouted when he heard a few of his rounds meet targets.  He shot in short bursts, aiming for whoever was coming closest.  Just when Skinner thought they might have the edge over the wave coming from the woods, he spotted another over his shoulder emerging from the road they had traveled back to the location.  “They’re boxing us in!”

“We need to move,” Kryder yelled.  “We’re going to be overwhelmed.  We’re sitting ducks!”  A slew of bullets cut into the ground in front of them.

“Byers, get inside and gun the engines, we’ll lay down cover,” Skinner shouted.

Byers didn’t hesitate before he climbed in the back of the van, scrambling for the front.  The light of the fires had him blind in the dark and he groped blindly ahead so he wouldn’t trample on either of the children in his mad dash toward the driver’s seat. 

“There’s too many!” Scully screamed, reloading her clip frantically as she crouched.  “Mulder!”

Scrambling backwards, Will felt his head crack off something hard even as he tried to sideslip and felt himself reel back as Byers groaned post-impact.  “William?  You okay?”

A blood-curdling scream from the marshes stole Skinner’s breath as he ducked beside Scully reloading his clip.  There was a sound of ripping flesh and mad skittering as some of the other approaching men began to scream. 

Kryder couldn’t tell what the men from the rear were screaming about but he knew he didn’t want to find out.  He could tell it wasn’t because they were being shot at. 

“Kryder, get inside, go!” Skinner barked at him, but he motioned for Scully to go first.  “Scully, I’ll cover, get inside!”  A canister of teargas had detonated near the smashed table and was making it difficult to focus.

Scully flashed him a petulant look.  Now was not the time for valor, but she climbed quickly into the back. 

Frohike yelled when he lobbed another grenade toward a man approaching on a horse.  “Get in, Langly!”

Langly climbed in next just as the engines revved inside.  Another spray of gunfire erupted from the driver’s side in front of him as Mulder tried to clear the men moving through their exit, trying to disable the vehicle.

“Go Frohike, I’ve got this,” Skinner said.  He had assumed Scully’s position closer to the table while laying cover over the rim.  “Take the rest of those up front.”

Unsheathing his handgun, Frohike spun away and scrambled for the passenger seat.

“Get inside!” Mulder screamed.

Feeling blindly behind him as he fired from the hip, Skinner felt a biting sensation that helped propel his torso into the vehicle.  Langly had him under the arms even as the vehicle began to drag him forward.  The younger man wedged his feet against the back corner as the larger man’s weight threatened to pull him out.  “Push back, Walter!”

A hard bump lifted the man enough for Byers to help pull him inside just as Frohike slammed his own door shut up front. 

Gunning the gas, Mulder drove straight toward the group of men which were now fleeing down the road.  He didn’t see the man on the horse riding up beside his flank. 

Frohike was yelling they had to move faster, but then fell silent when a massive pincher skewered a man and lifted him back into the shadows.  “What the hell was that?!”

Two things happened then simultaneously.  The man on the horse shot at the driver of the vehicle and Mulder plowed the van into a trio of individuals who hadn’t made it out of the way.  The smashing glass of the driver’s window sprayed inward as Mulder’s hand slipped from the gearshift that slipped the van into its lowest gear.  He felt his head bounce off the driver’s wheel as the van accelerated over the men’s bodies.  It suddenly became very difficult to focus driving forward as he felt blood pouring into his eyes, threatening his vision, which had grown dim.  _He had to focus!_ Through a haze in the distance, he heard Frohike yell for him to accelerate.

The van lurched forward toward the road and Mulder made no attempt to avoid the men running away from the area they had just destroyed.  He was feeling very tired.  Distantly, he felt Frohike grip the steering wheel beside his hands as his head came to rest on his shoulder.  He couldn’t be sure if it was him or Frohike who was babbling incoherently. 

“Mulder’s shot!” Frohike wailed.  “Can you hear me, buddy?”  He nudged Mulder’s head with his own as he tried to keep them moving away from the commotion behind.  “Mulder!”

“Mulder?” Scully called.  She was attending to Skinner behind him, blocking the entrance of his chest wound as Kryder furiously cut at a sheet of thin plastic.

“Mulder, if you can hear me, whatever you do, buddy, don’t let up on the gas, hear me? We have to keep going until we’re someplace safer.”

There was the sensation of motion and sound, but Mulder felt himself disconnecting from everything even as he fought for consciousness.  He had to hold on.  He had to hold on for…

_“Mulder, it’s me.”_

_Mulder awoke as time stood still and realized immediately he was hallucinating.  “Scully?” He closed his eyes and tried to wake up but could not.  “I’m tired.”  He winced at the blinding lights that were shining into the van on him past his frozen friends as Scully’s disembodied voice continued urgently.  Moving his hand to his forehead, he was briefly disturbed by what he felt._

_“No, Mulder, you must get up. You must get up and fight... especially you. This isn't your place. Get up, Mulder. Get up and fight the fight.”_

_The lights shining on Mulder were clearer now.  Scully had told him this before.  It was important, though he struggled to remember why.  The people before him were the spirits of the dead he knew.  Bill Mulder was staring at him past the hood, as were his Mother and Samantha.  Melissa Scully stood just beyond them with the rest of her family.  Emily watched him stoically poised beneath Melissa’s resting hands.  “Our deaths cannot be in vain,” she told him.  Behind her stood many others, players from his past and from the years he spent on the X-Files._

_Albert Hosteen was outside his smashed window on a white horse.  “Naayéé neizghání.  Monster Slayer, I call you.  The desire to return must burn brightly or you will remain here, with us.”_

_Mulder looked at Samantha and his parents, but then his thoughts returned to Scully, William, and their friends._

_“Go to them now,” Albert said, nodding.  “They are waiting for you.  So are the monsters.”_

“He’s back,” William said.

“Oh, Mulder.” Scully was holding his head in her hands, trying to focus her eyes in the dark.  She watched with alarm and fascination as the gaping wound folded in on itself and reformed new flesh to close.  She could barely believe it.  The wound would have proved fatal under normal circumstances.

In front of them, Frohike worked desperately to keep them from wrecking as they neared the turn-off onto the highway.  “Okay, let up, Mulder!”

Mulder groaned as he opened his eyes, his vision swimming before him in shades of red.  “Scully…”

“It’s me.  I’m here.  Right here,” she whispered in his ear.  “Wake up. Take your foot off the gas.”

Slowly, deliberately, Mulder moved his foot from the gas to the brake and brought them to an abrupt stop in the middle of the road.

Frohike slammed the gearshift into park position and was out of the van in an instant.  “Langly, come help me move him.”  He moved quickly, scanning for the man who had shot Mulder or for anyone else that might be following them.

Byers was holding the light above Skinner in the back of the van that lit his pale features.  “He’s losing a lot of blood.”

“Hang on, Skinman,” Langly said in passing as he bolted out the back.

Between the two of them, Langly and Frohike helped Mulder into the back of the van and Langly ran back to take over the wheel.  “Need some mad map voodoo, Byers!”

Byers handed Rachel the light he was holding and turned on his headlamp as he searched for his bag.  “Just a minute.”  He found it and climbed up carefully into the passenger seat Frohike had abandoned.

“Don’t be choosy,” Kryder implored.  If they didn’t stop soon, the older man was going to bleed out.  “Just find someplace intact if you can… and fast.”

**GRACELAND**

**Memphis, Tennessee**

**February 28 th, 2013**

**6:36 a.m.**

 

Their early arrival at the non-descript building in the pre-dawn hours was touch and go as she and Kryder attempted placing a chest tube to help Skinner breathe without doing any additional damage to his injuries.  Besides the indications of entry and exit wound, without imaging equipment Scully could not be sure how extensive any interior damage might be.  She honestly thought they might lose him through the morning, but he seemed to be gaining back some color after Kryder had volunteered a transfusion. 

The young soldier was a universal donor and she thanked God for the convenience.  It had likely saved their former superior’s life, if only for the moment.  Pneumonia and infection would be very real concerns as they moved forward, especially since they would need to be moving soon.  Despite the lack of complications so far, she did not delude herself as to her technique as a thoracic surgeon.  It was beyond her scope and if Skinner wound up needing surgery, he would likely die.

Mulder followed her outside a few minutes after she left to change.  She had removed her jacket and was washing with a soaped sponge, facing away from him.  “You’ve lost so much weight, Scully… You shouldn’t be outside by yourself.”

Scully audibly exhaled, too absorbed in her own thoughts to listen to what Mulder had said.  “What were those things, Mulder? What had those men so frightened?”

“I wish I knew,” he told her.  “My recollection of the whole night is a bit hazy.”  He scratched his head where the skin was still new and slightly itchy.

“I hope you’ll forgive me for saying this, but that bullet should have killed you.  It’s unnatural.”

“It’s not the first time a bullet should have rid you of me.”  Unfazed, Mulder moved closer, taking his flashlight out of his vest.  “Scully, you’re bleeding.”

“Don’t phrase it that way.  Where?” she asked, turning.

Mulder placed his hand on Scully’s right side as he shined the light just above her ribs.  “This is fresh.  There’s a hole in your sweater.  You weren’t shot, we’re you?”  His voice raised in alarm.  “Dana, this is a lot of blood.”

“No, no, don’t overreact.  I would have felt it.  I’m fine.”  Mulder was already pulling her top up, pushing her probing hand away so he could see.  A dark purple bruise had formed around the puncture wound that was already puckering as it shrunk.  He made an affirmative noise in the back of his throat.

“It’s true, then.”

“What?  Tell me.”  Scully’s eyes were full of apprehension when they met Mulder’s.

“I just confirmed something I’ve suspected for a very long time… I’m not the only X-File here.”

Scully sighed, slightly scared.  “Goddammit Mulder, just tell me what you see.”

Mulder retrieved Scully’s jacket from the ground and shined his flashlight through the hole he found in the side at Scully.  “Either something hit you or you were shot, but you’re already practically healed.  You really don’t feel anything there?”

“No,” Scully dismissed him while feeling at the puncture mark, shaking her head.  “A piece of shrapnel, maybe.”

Mulder could barely mask the awe in his expression.  “Fenig did save you… You’ve got to admit, the years have been exceptionally kind to you.”

Scully closed her eyes as she bowed her head.  “No, Mulder, I can’t accept that.  Just… stop.”

Mulder had trouble deciphering his partner’s body language and felt confused.  He couldn’t just let it go.  “Why not? Would you rather be dead?”

“Of course not,” she replied with a sigh.  Mulder held out his hand for the sponge and she obliged.  She could hear him waiting for her to qualify her response as he moved behind her and began to carefully wash the area surrounding the wound. 

“I just can’t accept that we won’t ever die,” she admitted.  “I want to believe that there’s more to life than this, a natural progression that all things follow.  I’ve already outlived one of my children, Mulder, and I don’t even want to imagine…” 

Mulder didn’t know what to say at his partner’s revelation.  “Where’s your patch kit?”

They had been holed up in the storage warehouse for nearly four days and Scully was beginning to feel antsy. 

Kryder and the Gunmen had scouted the bridges leading west out of the city on foot the day before, seeing they were destroyed as they had suspected they might be.  The only course for them would lead them south parallel to the Mississippi river.  They had moved quickly and quietly, unnerved by the silence of the urban environment.

Fully recovered now, Mulder was leading point as he moved with William and the Gunmen through the ruins of Graceland.  The destroyed mansion was not the campy tourist trap he remembered from his journey there so many years ago and certainly lacked the romance and nostalgia he had hoped to one day share with his son.

The ruined fountain before them let Mulder know they had reached the Meditation Garden, where Elvis and a few of his family members were laid to eternal rest.  Mulder had liked this part of the tour most on his vacation as it felt the most authentic, a little less plastic and more meaningful than the constructed images in the rest of the mansion some public relations flunky had pieced together for public consumption.  The ash-coated artificial flower arrangements before them reminded Mulder sharply of the intrinsic irony in his nostalgia.  If mankind somehow survived, these plastic and meaningless things would be the artifacts left for future generations to remember them by.     

He was never quite sure why he had such a spiritual connection to Elvis’ music.  Mulder didn’t feel such a connection to anything else but the music reminded him of happier times when he was young with his Mother and Samantha.  He could vaguely recall dancing about for them in their kitchen on the Vineyard.  He wondered if he would ever get to share any of his favorite songs with the boy or if music would become a thing of the forgotten past.  He cleared his throat.  “You know, Elvis said once, ‘You have to be careful out in the world. It's so easy to get turned.’”  He hadn’t realized he had paused until Will called his name ahead.

“We should get back to the others.” 

William had never heard of Elvis.

Kryder was screwing a brace into the makeshift stretcher he was constructing from plywood when Mulder and the others returned.  Scully was helping Skinner drink, though he was clearly unhappy about it.  He sipped gingerly so he would not cough before he raised a hand to push the cup away.  Rachel guarded his other side, having barely left her self-appointed post since they had arrived.

The older man struggled to pull his blanket back toward his chin.  “You should continue on before things get worse.  I’m just dead weight to you now.  Leave me here.  I’ll be fine.”

“The hell you are,” Langly said.

“The hell we will,” Frohike added.

Scully bent down by her knees so that she was eye-level with her former boss.  She looked to Rachel before she looked straight into his eyes.  “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter… Sir, you know we’re not going to abandon you here.”

“Hey Kryder, can you put wheels on that thing?  We can drag him along behind the van,” Mulder grinned at his own joke the others didn’t acknowledge.

Kevin chuckled for Mulder’s benefit as he finished tying the last knot for a handhold.  “It’s nothing eloquent, but it should hold up.”  He turned away from the others so he could retie the bandage that had slipped loose in his palm.  He would need to change them soon.

“We’ll make for 55 in the morning then?” Byers asked.  Skinner had been their unofficial leader through this point and Byers wanted to be sure he approved of their plans before he fell back asleep.

“Where will that lead us?” Skinner asked.

“South to the Gulf if we take it that far,” Byers supplied.

“And then?”

“Then… we find a way across the Mississippi.”


	21. Chapter 21

**XXI**

* * *

  
_“But for all our knowledge, what no one can say for certain, is what or who ignited that original spark. Is there a plan, a purpose or a reason to our existence? Will we pass, as those before us, into oblivion, into the sixth extinction that scientists warn is already in progress?_

_Or will the mystery be revealed through a sign, a symbol, a revelation?”_

\- Dana Scully, _Biogenesis_

* * *

 

**SOUTHBOUND ON I-55**

**Outside of Jackson, Mississippi**

**March 4 th, 2013**

**7:32 a.m.**

“When did that happen?”

Scully was cleaning the area around Skinner’s chest tube while everyone else was taking a break to stretch.  “When did what happen?”

“The ring beside your cross.”

Adding Mulder’s ring to the chain that held her cross had seemed like a practical solution to keeping the symbol safe and near her heart.  “About a week ago, while we were still in Virginia.”

“That’s a hell of a rock.”  Skinner closed his eyes and tried to relax back against the pillow he was propped on.  “I’m happy for you two… about time.  Why didn’t you-”

“It would be cruel to flaunt it,” Scully supplied before he could finish.  “We know we’ve been incredibly lucky.”

Skinner cocked one suspicious eye open before pausing to cough.  “You make it sound more like a formality than… a cause for celebration.”

“It is,” Scully said once she finished and began wiping her hands with sanitizer.  She smiled.  “There isn’t a word for what Mulder and I have.  A ring doesn’t change it, but… it’s nice.”

“How long has it been now?”

Scully thought for a moment before responding.  “Almost two decades.”  She chuckled when Skinner opened up his other eye in surprise.  “Well,” she clarified, “since we met.”

Skinner blushed.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Almost thirteen years,” she told Skinner.  “I never heard who won the pool.”

Skinner regretted asking.  “Wasn’t me.”

Part of Scully knew Skinner regretted more than losing the betting pool their FBI colleagues had formed regarding the status of her and Mulder’s relationship, but she was at a loss for words.  “I’m sorry,” she told him.  “I’m going to go check on the kids.”

“In Mulder we trust.”

“We do?”  Mulder came up upon the Lone Gunmen standing near the headlights.  Langly was smoking a cigarette.  “I heard that guy’s a self-absorbed, narcissistic asshole.  Really, Langly?  Just breathe the air.”

Frohike stole the cigarette from his friend and took a long drag.  “Mulder is a selfish asshole, but it’s better than thinking there’s nothing left,” he said.

“Anywhere,” Byers added.

Langly shrugged.  “If there’s no hope for survival, what’s left?  Game over, man.”

There were silent a moment, watching the smoke arc through the air.

“Where are you taking us, Mulder?” Byers asked.

Mulder briefly looked down at his destroyed boots and thought of another life he used to lead in Armani tailored suits and Oxfords before he looked out at the endless grey fog surrounding them.  “If I told you, it would ruin the surprise.”

From what little they could see beyond the road, the destruction was becoming more complete as they traveled south.  They had lost a tire coming out of Memphis and the spare was leaking.  They had been taking turns inflating it every hour, but knew it couldn’t last long.  They would have to stop soon and try to patch it or find another tire or vehicle.  They were dipping dangerously into their food and fuel reserves as they approached New Orleans when night fell. 

“We shouldn’t risk it,” Scully said.  “Not in the dark.”

“It’s dangerous out here, too,” Kryder replied.

“We’re going to lose that tire overnight,” Frohike supplied.  “We don’t want to be stranded out here when it happens.”

“He’s right,” Skinner affirmed.

“I say we push on,” Mulder said.  “We’re almost out of road, anyway.  We can look for someplace safe to hole up and go scavenging.”

No one argued.  They simply slid back into silence as Byers drove them on.

**DOUBLE TIME CAR WASH AND QUICK LUBE**

**LaPlace, Louisiana**

**March 4 th, 2013**

**5:21 p.m.**

They had stopped sooner rather than later, having found a mostly intact gas station near the ruins of a retail area.  It was cold enough to warrant a fire, so they blacked out the windows and doors and burnt some wooden pallets they found in a barrel to try and heat the garage.  The Gunmen had the problem tire off the van and were attempting to search for leaks, albeit unsuccessfully, in the dark.

Scully and Kryder brought the barrel closer to the back of the open van so that Skinner could stay warm.  Scully had argued that the children would be too cold if they didn’t risk a fire, but Skinner had started coughing hard earlier in the day and she was more worried pneumonia was setting in. 

 

Mulder took William along to ransack the small office attached to the garage.  The boy hadn’t been speaking much and Mulder worried about everything he’d witnessed in the last week.

_‘I’m fine, Dad.’_

“Don’t think you need to tell me what you think I want to hear,” Mulder said out loud as he sifted through an open desk with his flashlight.  ‘ _You’ve seen things no one should see.’_ “We can play some Battleship later, if you want.”

William shrugged.

“Have you had any more dreams lately?” Mulder asked.

“Albert says we have to go south, that this is the Sixth Extinction.  There’s a pyramid-type...”

“The three stepped pyramids, yeah, I’ve seen them.”

“Do you know where they are?” William asked.

“I have a hunch, but I bet you can see them better than I can.”  Mulder found a pen and paper and laid them on the desk with his flashlight.  “Can you draw them?  Then I’ll know.”

William stuttered over the word he was drawing from Mulder’s thoughts.  “Teo…tihuacan?”

“Draw,” Mulder told him, “and stop picking at my brain.  There’s a lot of stuff in there you don’t want to see.  What do we need to do when we get there?”

“I don’t know,” William told him honestly, climbing up on the desk.  “Albert said we have to ask the Elders for assistance.  I saw him praying over you in some kind of ceremony.”

“That was the Blessingway.  It’s a rite the Navajo use to ask for positive blessings.  I was pretty close to death a few too many times and I began to see the dead.  I’ve been able to see them ever since, when they want me to.”

William put the pen down at looked at Mulder.  He thought about asking the man if he had seen his family and immediately wished he hadn’t thought of it as unbidden images flooded his brain.

“Adam Van de Kamp helped me find your farm.  He helped me find you.”

William’s eyes shot up and Mulder felt the boy probing his memories.  It was uncomfortable, almost painful.

“He didn’t say anything, Will.  He just pointed the way for me.”  Mulder could feel William’s grief, his unspoken questions.  He stopped cold before he returned William’s gaze, unsure if the boy was listening.  “You think he would have been disappointed in you?” The boy looked away.

Mulder moved to where William was sitting on the desk and gripped his hand before he crouched down beside him, sighing.  “Look, Will… you probably won’t ever understand this until you have a kid of your own someday, but… it doesn’t work that way.  At least, it doesn’t to me.  He loved you.  He loves you still.  You were his son.”  Mulder could see he was still not getting through to the boy, so he continued. 

“Will, I never thought I could love someone as much as I love your mother, but the first time she placed you wrapped and squirming in my arms… I was overcome by this love so strong for you both I… I can’t really describe it.”

Will wiped furiously at a few tears that stained his cheek as he felt the wave of emotions rolling off the man mix with his own.  Mulder was looking at him with such compassion that he couldn’t help himself.  Now the man was telling him what he wanted to hear.

“You know he’s not here for me to ask him, but I think he’d be proud of you.  You’re strong, you’re smart, clever… and you’ve got extraordinary gifts.  You looked after Scully for me, and you watch over Rachel, I see it.  He’d be proud of you for all the same reasons I am.  He wouldn’t be disappointed in you.”

Scully’s blue eyes stared back at him uncomprehending, so many of his own personal demons reflected in them.  Unthinking, Mulder wrapped his arms around the boy and hugged him tight.  Will was tense for a moment, but then relaxed against him as Mulder whispered in his ear.  “You’ve got to let it go, Will, all this guilt you carry.  You can’t let it eat at you.”  The irony of his words wasn’t lost on him.  “Don’t wind up like your old man.”

After a few moments, he released his grip on the boy and looked at him directly.  He brushed his finger below Will’s eye to wipe away a few remaining tears.  ‘ _Are you going to be able to sleep?’_

William shook his head. 

“Yeah, me neither,” Mulder admitted.  “C’mon, we’ll sit up together.  Maybe you can finish your drawing.”

_William was mad he had drifted off.  Albert was crouched down beside him, shaking his shoulder gently._

_“It’s the one you feed,_ _Ma-e-_ _yáázh._ _” he told William._

_William sat up.  Mulder had been here with him in the garage.  Now he was alone again with the elderly man and it unnerved him.  “Albert? What are you talking about?” he asked._

_“There are two wolves within each of us,” Albert continued.  “One is false pride, arrogance, evil things that wear us down in life.  He is filled with helpless anger and negative thoughts.  The other stands for things that are good – truth, courage, hope, feeling for others.  These wolves fight within for dominance and determine the type of person we are.  The one that wins is the one you feed,_ _Ma-e-_ _yáázh._

_The Earth has a secret it needs to tell.  If you are too busy listening within, you will not be able to listen without.”  Albert removed his hand from the boy’s shoulder and placed it on his head._

_William felt himself falling back asleep._

“Hey Ishmael, it’s almost morning, wake up.”  Mulder gently nudged William where he was sleeping against Mulder’s arm.  Will stirred slowly, blinking his eyes.  He was embarrassed to realize he had drooled a bit on Mulder. 

Mulder grinned.  “Don’t worry, your mother does that to me all the time.”  If Will wasn’t mortified before, he was now as he quickly looked down to hide the blush lighting his cheeks.  Curiosity quickly took over once he realized the sheet of paper below his palm had crumpled in his hand during the night.  Unwrapping it, he saw that it was finished though he had not completed it while he was sitting up with Mulder in the night.

Mulder breathed quickly once he saw the elaborate sketch William had not finished himself.  “How?” he asked, shocked.

“Albert was here with me, but he talked about wolves, not this.”

Mulder took the sketch and illuminated it.  His eyes widened in surprise as he examined it.

“Incredible.  The other sketches of yours I had found in your room… did you always do them like this, when you were asleep?”

“Sometimes,” William admitted.  “I didn’t always remember doing them.  I’d just get a feeling sometimes and start drawing.”

“What did Albert tell you?”

“He says the Earth has a secret to tell.”

Morning came uneventfully with another inch of grey snow.  Scully, Kryder, and Rachel stayed behind at the garage with Skinner while the others scouted the surrounding area for supplies.

The Gunmen, Mulder, and Will moved slowly down the street west from their location, searching for any buildings that might have usable equipment or consumables.  Fog kept their visibility to a minimum so they did not recognize the supersized shopping center until there were directly upon what was left of it.  Stretching deep into a cloud before them, the crumbling building seemed to be leaning toward them.  The men stopped at the edge of the parking lot when they spotted the bodies among the debris closer to them.  Mulder put a hand on William’s shoulder.  ‘ _Stay with me and keep an eye out for anything.’_

Frohike finally swallowed and broke the silence.  “We might be able to find our tire here.  Gas, too.”

“The building looks too dangerous to go inside,” Byers commented.

“Let’s check the cars?” Langly suggested.

Mulder gestured for Frohike to join him and William.  “Watch for the Oil.  It could be anywhere and hard to spot.”

Frohike moved toward a large van and had his tape measure out of his pocket to gauge the tire.  Mulder moved around the outside, flashing his light through the windows.  Maybe they’d get lucky and find some goods someone looted before whatever killed these people struck.  Not seeing anything inside, he looked off into the distance to see if he could see any more intact buildings.  It looked like a massive fire had devastated most of the area at some point post-Colonization.  Still, they’d need to find food and more water soon, somewhere.  Underscoring the thought, he heard William’s stomach growl behind him. 

Wordlessly, Mulder dug into his pocket and held his protein bar out to the boy behind him.  When William didn’t reach for it, Mulder turned to him.  “I know you’re hungry… take it.”  Stubbornness flashed across the boy’s features before Mulder tilted his head at him and smiled affectionately.  He’d never grow tired of noticing these small moments where Will reminded him of himself or his mother.  “Have it.  I’m fine, really.  It’s not much anyway, but maybe we’ll find more here.”  Sighing, Will took the small bar and unwrapped it as Mulder continued looking around before turning his attention to Frohike. 

“What do you say, Toto?”

“Not the best, but it’ll do.”  The older man was pulling a jack and some tools from the bag he had brought along.  He handed Mulder a tire iron.  “Heave ho, Tinman.”

Mulder chuckled as he kneeled to loosen the tire’s lugs.

Savoring three bites of Greek yogurt and nuts, William wondered who the Wizard was.

Byers was consulting his map to help them keep from getting lost in the fog.  Langly rolled the tire in front of them as they walked down the deserted road.  They had located a few hidden bags of groceries that would hold them over for a few days and Frohike had been grateful to add a few meager supplies to his stash before they had left the parking lot. 

They couldn’t see it yet, but before them the Mississippi roared.  They moved slowly over a guardrail and down an embankment until they neared the shore.  It was hard to see where it began as the edge of the river was beginning to freeze among drifts of debris and the massed chunks of whatever particulate had been raining from the sky.

Frohike whistled long and low.  “This is not happening.”

Mulder frowned as flotsam washed past and out to sea.  The water was black.  There would be no fish, and there was no life.  Taking a free bottle from his pack, Mulder filled it and capped it.  He knew it was a remote possibility, but hoped they might be able to treat it.

Scully found Kryder praying in a corner of the garage with Rachel.  She turned to give him privacy, but paused and turned back, kneeling slowly to join him instead.  Her hands moved to the cross poised above her heart and she asked silently for a clean slate. 

She had not thought that Kevin realized she was there beside him, but he paused and smiled at her before turning back.  His smile hadn’t changed much since she met him as a boy, no older than William was now. 

Time passed in minutes that felt like hours before Scully opened her eyes again.  Beside her, Kryder looked solemnly at the bloodied rags that covered his hands.  Scully was not sure what emotion passed behind his stoic demeanor, whether it was a sort of reverence or more of a grimace.

“What is it? What do you see, Kevin?”

“Pain,” he said.  “So much lost… How can we ever go back?”

Behind them, Mulder and the others came in quietly.  “Honey, I’m home,” he called.

“Did you bring the milk?” Skinner asked hidden in the van, his voice laden with sarcasm.

The group converged near the fire.  “Only the powdered variety, but we didn’t come back empty-handed, either.”

“Did you see anything?” Scully asked, accepting Mulder’s bag.

“Nothing living,” Mulder answered.  “Just… lots of damage.  We’re going to have to go back out.”  Putting down his backpack, Mulder pulled the bottle of river water he had stored and held it in front of the fire before he passed it to Scully.  “I have a feeling whatever’s swimming around in this isn’t safe to drink, even if we boil the hell out of it.”

Scully frowned as she examined the bottle for herself.  “We could try it, but I don’t think that’s a risk we should take unless it’s our last resort.”

**New Orleans, Louisiana**

**March 6 th, 2013**

**2:10 p.m.**

The engine was smoking slowly, but Langly drove them on while Byers rode shotgun.  The blessed plastic Virgin slowly did the hula about her spring perch.

Mulder stretched behind the passenger seat before he extended his hand.  “Head south toward the marinas.  If we’re lucky, we’ll find a small patrol.  Let me see your atlas, Byers.” 

“You don’t know the first thing about running a boat that size, Mulder.”  Scully zipped up her jacket and crossed her arms beside him.

“Don’t you?” he asked.

Scully leveled him with a look.  He knew better.  “You know what happened the last time we took out a boat that size.”

“Wait.  You mean when we went on our cruise, the Ardent, the Queen Anne, or the time I found Big Blue?” 

Scully’s eyebrows lifted as she was ready to tell him to listen to himself, though she remained silent, waiting. 

“The Patricia Rae? That was over ten years ago,” Mulder countered.

“You found an alligator, Mulder.  Besides, what’s that got to do with it?  You still can’t drive a boat.”

Mulder stopped, not having prepared for Scully to say that.  He directed his mock-pain at her, but only for a brief moment before he shook his head and locked his narrowing eyes with hers.  “Yeah, well neither can you.”

Next to Scully, Skinner interrupted their wordplay unceremoniously with a groan.  “Assuming I make it onto the damn boat, I’ll drive the damn thing.  Would you two just… stop?”


	22. Chapter 22

**XXII**

* * *

  
_“It was like the excitement of the battle except it was clean… In a snowstorm it always seemed, for a time, as though there were no enemies. In a snowstorm the wind could blow a gale; but it blew a white cleanness and the air was full of a driving whiteness and all things were changed and when the wind stopped there would be the stillness. This was a big storm and he might as well enjoy it.”_

\- Ernest Hemingway, _For Whom The Bell Tolls_

* * *

 

**PORT SULPHUR**

**New Orleans, Louisiana**

**March 6 th, 2013**

**4:36 p.m.**

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Mulder stated, eyeing Scully over his air filter.

“I don’t know if you’re wrong, Mulder, I just know it’s dangerous.”  Scully looked at the sky and then out on the bay where the trawler drifted.  It might have been a postcard from the Arctic for the way the sun filtered through the ice and ash in the air, creating a thick bright haze.

“What isn’t these days… Do you have an alternative?”

Scully sighed.  “No, I don’t know what you see.”

“Just trust me, Scully.”

Now Scully returned his gaze.  “I’ve come with you this far, haven’t I?”

“We’re going to have to,” Frohike said behind them, perched on the bumper before the engine.  “Engine’s fried.  Kaput.”

Scully sighed, shaking her head at their predicament.  “Okay.  Let’s go check it out.  You, me, Will, and Kryder.”

Mulder leaned in close by Scully’s ear to whisper.  “Why don’t you stay here with Will and Skinner?  Kryder and I can handle it.  We can signal back when the coast is clear.”

Scully glared at him in response before Will interrupted.  “No one is on that boat.”

“Maybe it isn’t anyone we need to be worried about,” Mulder replied, keeping his eyes locked on Scully’s.

“Nevertheless,” Scully steeled herself and took a deep breath, “we’re coming with you.”

“What should we do if you don’t signal back?” Byers asked.

Mulder was already untethering a small fishing skiff that hadn’t skipped its mooring.  He reached a hand up to steady Scully before she stepped aboard.  Will was seated by the time Kryder retrieved an extra rifle from the van and joined them.

“The usual… Improvise,” Mulder told Byers as he primed the gas.  “Use your scope and watch for our signal.  It will be something obvious, but discreet.  We don’t want to attract too much attention.” 

“Good luck,” Langly said just as Mulder pulled the motor.  It sputtered slowly, threatening to stall, but then roared to life as it propelled them out from the dock.

Mulder listened intently as he cut the power to the engine when they neared the side of the vessel.  The noise had made him paranoid and the limited visibility had kept them from scoping out the trawler at any significant distance.  Beside him, Kryder was already scanning the vessel using his binoculars now that they were beside it.

“I’m not seeing any signs of movement,” he reported.

Mulder managed to catch a post with their rope and began lashing the boat alongside the larger one.  The jump he’d need to make to get on board would be awkward, but he could do it.  

“Someone could be hiding.  Keep your guard up,” Scully told him, understanding what he intended to do.  Checking his arms, Mulder nodded in assent before he launched himself up the side of the trawler propelling himself off the side of the skiff.  It wasn’t a long jump, but Mulder hit the edge hard with his stomach, losing his breath.  Regaining his momentum, he pulled himself up and over the side, landing on all fours before he pulled his handgun and looked around.  Once settled that nothing was in the immediate vicinity, he stood up and silently lowered a ladder down the side and over to where the others waited.  He motioned for them to give him five minutes. 

Mulder moved slowly, casing the vessel with his flashlight and handgun.  It wasn’t a large boat by any means, but there were enough corners and containers that he was being extra cautious.  Slipping into the cockpit, he moved silently down into the galley where he heard a rustling coming from the dark. 

“Come out.  I’m armed,” Mulder announced, training his light and gun at the sound.  The movement stopped and Mulder waited a moment before steeling himself to approach.  Crouching, Mulder counted silently to three before he flipped the large cupboard open and shined his light inside with his weapon, prepared for anything.  What he wasn’t prepared for was the size of the snake that reared back to hiss at him.  Before he even thought of pulling the trigger, Mulder landed hard on his ass as the snake’s torso exploded. 

Cursing his reflexes, Mulder examined the gruesome remains before shutting the cupboard back up.  He could have used his knife and saved the round.  Chances were the snake wasn’t even poisonous.   

“Mulder!” Scully came crashing through the door of the cockpit followed by Kryder and Will, flashing her light down the path he had followed moments earlier.  Spotting him safe, she stopped.  “What happened?”

Mulder sighed and gestured at the closed cabinet with his handgun.  “I almost blew a hole in the side of the damn boat… a snake.”

Despite her efforts not to, Scully couldn’t help but smile as he stood up beside her.  “A snake?” she questioned him.

Kryder bent and began checking the other closed areas beside them.  “Good thing they left some supplies here.  Bland stuff, but it looks like it kept.  It’s still in the plastic and everything.” 

“It was a big damn snake,” Mulder qualified.  Scully bent down to flick the cabinet open, but Mulder caught her wrist with his hand.  “Don’t look.”

Scully’s smile widened into a grin when Mulder blushed.  “Now if you’d have said it was a Fiji mermaid, I’d have been worried.”  She withdrew her hand and Mulder let go, rolling his eyes.  “Seems we’re clear.  I’ll check if we have fuel if you’ll go and signal the others.”

Kryder reassured Will once Mulder and Scully split.  “I’d have shot it, too.”

Back on shore, Rachel bolted upright just before the shot fired on the boat echoed past.  Langly saw the anticipation before he heard the shot himself and leapt to his feet from where he had been sitting near the destroyed van. 

Frohike had beaten the others to the edge of the dock and was surveying the vessel using his own set of binoculars. 

“Do you see anything?” Byers asked, catching up. 

“Mulder must be inside by himself.  They’re going in to see what happened.  That’s not a very big space.”

They waited with baited breath as long moments drew by quietly.  While Frohike could watch the exterior of the ship, the lighting conditions kept him from seeing anything inside besides a few beams from several flashlights occasionally scraping the windows.

“What’s going on, Frohike?”  Skinner barked.  His view was blocked from where he rested inside the van.

Frohike held up his hand.  “Quiet! I think Mulder’s coming out.”

Mulder appeared agitated and moved toward the stern of the ship where the skiff floated alongside the vessel.  Facing the party on the shore, he covered his flashlight with his hand and signaled things were “AOK” via Morse code.

“He says things are fine,” Frohike relayed, bringing his binoculars down.  “Hope you guys packed your sea legs.”

“Well, how many miles do you need?” Scully asked. 

“I’m not sure.  How far is it to Mexico City from here?”

Scully raised her eyebrows at him.  “We’re going to Mexico City?  Of all places?”

“Give or take,” Mulder said. 

“Unless we can refuel somewhere along the way, I don’t think we’ll make it that far.”

“Assuming the boat runs in the first place.  How long do you think it’s been floating out here?”

“No idea.  Give it a try.  I don’t want to risk moving Skinner for nothing.  He’s in poor enough condition that we really shouldn’t be moving him at all.”

“I know,” Mulder agreed.  He settled into one of the seats by the control panel and started looking over the array of instruments before him.  While a few of the labels seemed related to familiar concepts, he had no idea about all the others or any specific order in which they should be tripped.   

Just as Mulder was deciding on a random sequence to try, Scully opened a container in the seat beside him and pulled out the manual before she closed it and sat down. 

She always kept him guessing.  Mulder’s awe was apparent.  “How did you know that would be there?”

“Ahab took us out fishing a few times.  It wasn’t often, but they make every inch count on these smaller trawlers, especially the older ones like this one.”  As she opened the book in her lap, the key fell out beside it.

Mulder nodded, impressed at their brief turn of serendipity.  “Smart thinking.”

Scully smiled at their good fortune and hoped it would keep.  She lifted the key and handed it to Mulder.  “Good luck.”

“Well, here goes nothing.”  Turning the key in the ignition, Mulder listened to the tired battery crank the engine a few moments before the lifeless ship beneath them shuddered and came to life.  The smile that curled the edges of Mulder’s mouth was genuine.  “I did not think that was going to work,” he admitted.

Scully returned Mulder’s smile and turned to William who now stood behind them, ducking so he could look out into the gulf.  He answered Scully’s unspoken question.  “Teotihuacan.”

They had powered the ship down to save fuel before he left.  Beside the small roar of the skiff engine, Mulder’s view consisted of darkness and the single beam of Frohike’s guiding flashlight leading him back to the shore.  He missed the stars.

Frohike greeted him with a hug once he stepped back onto the dock.  “Hey big guy, you had us worried there for a bit.”

“Sorry,” Mulder apologized.  “How’s Skinner?”

Frohike shook his head lightly.  “He’s still coughing, pretty bad.”

“Let’s get him on the boat.  We can’t leave him here.”

“Can’t we… you know, knock him out or something so it won’t hurt?”

Mulder shook his head.  “I wanted to, but Scully thinks we’ll lose him if we try.”

Frohike looked down at the ground.  “Well… shit.”

A half-mile out on the water, Scully sat next to William on a blanket perched atop the trawler.  Behind them, a tattered American flag shifted in the breeze.  Kryder stood down below on the deck, watching the shore through his binoculars.  The air was frigid, but the darkness outside was more of a comfort than the darkness within.

“Can you see them, Kevin?” Scully asked.

“I think they’re moving him into the boat,” Kryder responded.  “I can’t make much out besides what I can see from their flashlights.”

Scully squeezed Will’s hand.  “You may know this already, but I’ve never told you that you had an older sister.” 

Will nodded toward the horizon, listening.

“Her name was Emily.  She was beautiful, and I think you two would have gotten along well.  She would have been turning eighteen this year.”

“You think about her quite often,” Will observed.  “She was an experiment, like me, but you didn’t know until later.  What is it you want to believe?” he asked.

“Hmm?” Scully had left her mind drift with the waves that sloughed off the side of the bow.  She paused, unsure what Will had pulled from her troubled thoughts.

“I want to believe… that God has not abandoned us.  That there is a greater reason or purpose for all this, and that we will come through this together as a family, stronger for the experience.  I want to believe… that He is guiding you and Mulder to where we need to go, showing you what needs to be done.”

Will nodded silently knowing Scully’s words were truthful.  “I’d like to believe that, too,” he confided.

In the distance, the skiff’s engine revved as Mulder directed the boat back toward them. 

Scully patted her son’s knee beside her.  “Let’s climb down, Will.  They’ll need our help.”

It had been exhausting and difficult, but they had managed to maneuver Skinner and his stretcher onto the boat.  Though she was initially reluctant to, she dosed him heavily with cough medicine once it became clear he wouldn’t be able to rest otherwise.  Nine of them in the boat were several too many, but it seemed luxurious in comparison to the space restriction they had dealt with in the van.  Scully left Kryder watching over Skinner while she joined Mulder up front where he was starting the engine.  “We’ll save miles if we don’t have to hug the coast.  Can you get me a bearing, Mulder?”

Mulder paused before answering.  “Do you think we could trust one?”

Scully sighed, leaning back in her chair.  “If you want an honest answer, given our track record with maritime vessels, well… no.” 

Mulder smiled at his partner’s honesty.  They’d mastered the art of compromise through the years.  Sometimes he missed their debates over the scientific inane.  “Well, for once let’s play it safe then, as long as we can anyway.”

Days passed seamlessly as they travelled south before one night when the dawn didn’t come.  Mulder stood perched on the deck with Kryder’s binoculars, searching for the shore.  While he knew it wasn’t far to their starboard side, it didn’t calm his fears.  He recalled a line Scully wrote long ago when they faced their deaths prematurely on another sea.  “I think I hear the wolf at the door.”  Behind him, Scully gripped his arm. 

“It has to be a storm,” she told him, holding out her hand to catch a speck of falling ash or snow.  The difference wasn’t clear anymore.  She rewound the scarf she was wearing around her face so that it was a bit more secure.

“The sea is calm, Scully,” he replied.  “If anything, it’s a bit too calm.”

She rested her head against his shoulder, tired and weary.  “I think you’re overreacting.  You’ve heard of ‘the calm before the storm’.”

Wrapping an arm around Scully’s waist, Mulder ducked his head so he could whisper in her ear.  “And I think you’re underreacting for my benefit.  The sky should be lightening, even if just by a little.” 

“What are you proposing then?  That the sun went out while we were sleeping?  We’d be popsicles.”

Mulder appreciated the analogy and kissed the top of her head once he removed his mask.  “I don’t think conventional rules apply anymore.”

William joined them where they stood and Mulder wrapped his free arm around the boy’s bony shoulder.  One of his old black turtlenecks hung long and loose on the boy.  He might have the chance to grow into it if everything wasn’t going to hell in a hand basket.

“When have we ever played by the rules, Mulder?” Scully asked.

“I love you,” he said, squeezing his family on either side.  He pretended the watery ash streaking down his cheek was snowmelt.


	23. Chapter 23

**XXIII**

* * *

  
_“But as in landlessness alone resides the highest truth, shoreless, indefinite as God - so better is it to perish in that howling infinite, than be ingloriously dashed upon the lee, even if that were safety! For worm-like, then, oh! who would craven crawl to land!”_

\- Herman Melville, _Moby Dick_

* * *

 

**GULF OF MEXICO**

**Unknown Coordinates**

**March 16 th, 2013**

**10:13 a.m.**

There was an odd sense of calm as Kryder moored the ship in the harbor of the unknown city that lie before them dusted in grey.  If he hadn’t known better, the man would have called it Pompeii and saw that it was slowly disintegrating.  Knowing better, he spotted and dusted the signs nearby until he knew they had arrived.  They had lost time checking another town and ultimately acquiring some fuel, but this had been their destination and he was glad they had finally been able to identify the correct inlet to pilot the trawler west. 

The group was low on food and his stomach growled reminding him of that fact.  He had been going with the least he could manage.  The bland powder biscuits they had on ship were poor sustenance and he tried not to focus on the growing demand his hunger tried to command.  Feeling the rope attached to Mulder behind him gave him little comfort, but a sense of direction.  He’d been caving once when he was younger, and it had been just as dark.  He was afraid to call out, but this discovery warranted it and he cleared his throat of the all-consuming dust blowing everywhere before he shouted.  “Hey! This is it, Mulder.  Túxpan.”         

From here they would travel on foot again unless they could find another vehicle.  Casting his light through the shifting shades of black and grey in front of him, Mulder doubted their path.  There had been no more dreams as they’d travelled by boat, and he wondered what he would tell his family and friends when they reached the ancient ruins if there was nothing there to find.  He had always hoped the boy on the beach would hold the answers, but the boy was on the boat with his mother and seemed just as lost as he was.  The beam of his light dimmed as he shut it back off.  There would be no spotting the Black Oil in their path if any lingered.    

Mulder clipped the light back along his pack.  “We should look around – see if there were any vehicles for sightseeing.  Some of the tourist outfits had to have operated out of here.”

“It’s going to be hard to find anything in this, but we can try,” Kryder agreed, coughing.  Swiveling a clip near his scope, he attached his flashlight to his rifle.  “Anything to get out of this air.” 

Behind them, Scully called from the deck of the ship.  Her filter muffled her voice, but it was still distinct.  “Mulder? How far off are we?”

Mulder tugged on the rope attaching him to Kryder to warn the younger man before he moved back to stand below Scully on the dock.  The wind was kicking up again and he shielded his eyes to focus on her.  “We’re close.  It’s another 150 miles, give or take.”

“You’re sure about this?” she asked. 

“Not at all,” he admitted.  Mulder loved his loyal doubting Thomas.  

“You still want to see? We could keep moving south,” Scully suggested.  “See if there’s an end to the darkness.”

Mulder smiled, wishing he could believe it might be so.  They had once vacationed near these shores and the water had been crystal blue, teeming with life.  Maybe one day they would be again.  “I think the darkness found us, Scully.  I don’t think it’s going away any time soon.”

“This is it, then?” she asked.

“No more running,” he answered, holding his hand out for the ladder.

Mulder, Scully, William, and Kryder pushed forward through the darkness toward an abandoned café.  The building was leaning on its foundations enough that the door would not give, and Mulder broke a window so they could enter.  They rested around a table inside, breathing heavily and coughing occasionally through their facemasks.  Once he caught his breath, Kryder went to search the location for anything useful, leaving the three of them in silence.  Taking a lighter from a pocket, Scully lit a candle resting in a container on the table and shut off her flashlight.  She was the one who finally broke their unspoken vigil with words.

“What are we doing here, Mulder? Just what is it you hope to find?”

Mulder paused before answering.  That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it?

“Sixty-six million years ago, a mass extinction event wiped out seventy-five percent of all life on Earth.  Dinosaurs perished… mammals and birds rose to become the dominant vertebrates of the new age.  Whether you want to chalk it up to an asteroid impact, flood basalt events, or something more sinister, something or someone triggered a global reset.  It wouldn’t be the first time, it wouldn’t be the last.  That much you already know.”

“Mulder... Someone?” Scully questioned.  

“I know,” Mulder said, imagining the lifted eyebrow he couldn’t make out.  “Just bear with me for a moment.  Say the Purity virus really is the primordial sludge that provided the genesis for all other life and races… we’ve seen it control human beings before, use them as hosts…”

“What are you suggesting?” Scully asked.  “You’re saying the Black Oil itself is sentient?”

“What if it could control the Colonists as well?   What if it _is_ controlling them?  The ship in Africa you saw, Scully, carved with verses from major religious texts spanning history…” Mulder raised his hand when he heard Scully sigh. 

“Just hear me out.  You saw it with your own eyes.  Say the Colonists returned to their home planet only to find that they were no longer welcome, that they’d been replaced, that the world they knew was gone?  They planned to recolonize and terraform with the assistance of their new third-cousins.  In exchange for a method of delivery to expedite the virus, the Colonists would allow some humans to live on in a hybrid form as slaves… the Gregor clones we’ve encountered. 

While the Consortium collaborated and plotted for their own immunity and gains, what they hadn’t planned on was that the Earth itself might reject these invaders as parasites, that whatever form of life had come before… didn’t want them back.”

Scully opened her glove so some ash slid onto the tablecloth.  “That’s what you’re attributing this to? You know, Mulder… You’ve come up with some far-fetched theories through the years, but I think this takes the cake.” 

“You know this story; it’s in the tradition of Lucifer.  Mythical creatures descend from the heavens, upset with their maker for displacing them.  To the Navajo, it was insect people from the First World, Ni’hodilqil, the dark Earth.”

“So now you’re saying this is the Apocalypse? You’ve lost me.” Scully was confused by Mulder’s line of logic, if there was even one left to be had. 

“I don’t see the need to cast it in purely Christian allegories,” Mulder continued.  “Albert called it the world in flux.  Whether you subscribe to the premium edition of the Ragnarök from Norse mythology or the popular mythos of the Apocalypse, it’s a rebirth through brimstone.  Subscribe to Nietzsche and his theory of “eternal return” that’s widespread through many cultures and systems of belief.  Your tattoo – the Ouroboros.  Amor Fati, the “love of fate.”  Something has drawn us here, Scully.  I feel it – it’s there…  I think time is cyclical and we’re just here to wind the watch.”

Scully knew she couldn’t laugh at Mulder, despite the absurdity of his statements.  She left the numbness wash through her.  “You’re kidding…  Your whole life’s work, and this is your grand truth? Your way to slay the monsters? To redemption? You know Paley’s Divine Watchmaker was just an analogy, right?”

“I don’t know.  My father kept me from being taken all those years ago so that I could uncover the Project and try to stop it.  That was his hope, anyway.  These dreams I have, that Will has… we’re told to ask the elders for guidance.  I think it means the dead.  Guess we’re gonna find out,” Mulder replied.  “Maybe you’ll get that clean slate after all.  You remember that Cher song, “ _If I Could Turn Back Time_?”

“Hey, Scully.”

“Yeah?”

“What was all in that cocktail you made us on the Ardent that time?”

Scully found herself shaking her head at Mulder’s randomness as they walked down an abandoned street.  “It’s a bit hazy, but if I remember correctly… it had a few lemons, snow globe water, and… the liquid from a sardine can.”

“Doesn’t sound half bad right about now.”

“I’ve still got some water in my canteen if you’re thirsty,” Scully offered, worried now if alien-human hybrids could suffer from dehydration.  Mulder hadn’t fared so well on the Ardent and she was surprised he could later remember anything about the ordeal. 

“Nah, save it for you or the kids.”

“If you’re thirsty you need to drink, Mulder.”

“I’m alright… Look.”  Mulder pointed needlessly at the distance where lightning silently arced sideways across the sky.  It was the first natural light they had seen in days.  Behind him, William, Scully, and Kryder paused to take in the sight.

“Let me guess,” Scully speculated dryly.  “We’re heading for the heart of that storm.”

“Would you believe me if I said there was a light like this the night Will was born?  It helped me find you,” Mulder said, continuing.  “It sort of reminds me-“ A vibration from the walkie-talkie on his hip cut his soliloquy short as he reached for it and answered.

Frohike had paged him.  “Hey, the guys said they’ve found a work car on train tracks heading our direction.  I’ve got coordinates if you want to check it out.  You guys have any luck scavenging?”

Mulder looked behind him at Kryder’s small bag of items they had found.  “Heh,” he admitted.  “Okay, feed me some numbers.”

They stood before the monolith of industrial age machinery modernized with a wedge plow.

“They had to use this for a wrecker,” Byers stated.

“I didn’t even know that was a thing.  Not that I’m an expert on trains,” Mulder conceded.  “Do you think it will run?” 

“Cranked right up when we tried it,” Langly said, shrugging.

Scully walked around the side, and climbed the steps to the open entrance.  “We can’t all fit in here.”

“Some of us can ride outside if we have to,” Mulder said, coming up behind her.  “It wouldn’t be for more than a few hours at the most.” 

“At the most?” Scully questioned him.  “What do you think happens after we get to the ruins, Mulder?”  When Mulder didn’t respond, she said his name again and her voice grew more insistent.  “Mulder… You think that’s going to be it, don’t you? When this thing runs out of fuel, we’re going to be stranded.  Look, we’re already low on food, not to mention water-”

Mulder hushed Scully as Will came up behind her.  “Alright, alright, shh.  I don’t know, Scully.  I wish I did.  Beats walking.  Beats staying here.  We’ll keep searching.”  Mulder stuck his head back outside the car.  “How much fuel do we have?”

“Should get you there and most of the way back, Mulder,” Byers responded.

“That’s your justification?” Scully pressed him.  “Seriously?”

“We’re way past the realm of extreme possibilities, I know.”

Scully’s eyebrow asked him if that wasn’t the understatement of the century.  “Mulder,” Scully sighed, shaking her head.  “Tell me these visions, these dreams you’ve had… that you didn’t just make them up to give us a goal to reach, something to hold onto so that we wouldn’t lose hope.”

Mulder huffed indignantly, shaking his head.  “You would think that… This hasn’t been a sightseeing tour for me.  These things I’ve seen… I haven’t made them up, Scully.  We’re beyond folie à deux here.  This is more like… folie à plusieurs.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”  Scully pursed her lips and nodded then once, ducking her head.  “We can’t take Skinner, you know… he’ll never survive the trip.”

“I know,” Mulder replied. 

“We’ll have to come back to the boat.  We can’t abandon him.”

“No,” Mulder shook his head as he looked past her, thinking, “we can’t.”

Mulder’s walkie-talkie crackled to life at his hip and he jumped as he reached for it. 

“We’ll stay with him,” Frohike said from the other end. 

“I must have forgotten to shut you off,” Mulder said absently, wondering how much precious battery power he had wasted.  “You’ve been listening in this entire time?” Mulder asked.

“Hey, an old man’s got to get his thrills somewhere,” he responded sarcastically.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen when we arrive,” Mulder admitted.

“I get it, Mulder,” Frohike replied.  “Go after the white whale.  God willing, we’ll be here when you get back.  We’ll keep searching the town, see what supplies we can turn out.”

Mulder shut off the radio and stared at the ground for a moment before he lifted his eyes to meet Scully’s. 

“Now you’re having second thoughts,” she said out loud for him.  It was just them in this moment, lit by the harsh LEDs of Scully’s headlamp. 

Mulder nodded, half-smiling to himself.  “Second thoughts?  I have to be in the hundreds by now.”

Scully conceded.  “You said it yourself before, Mulder.  There’s nothing left to go back to anyway.  No more running, remember?”

Mulder looked to William, thinking of the boy’s oak tree planted in Virginia.  He wondered briefly if it still stood. 

“It’s waiting for us,” the boy said.  “We should go.”

Coming up from behind them, Kryder set down his bag.  “Sometimes we must come full circle to find the truth.”


	24. Chapter 24

**XXIV**

* * *

  
_“It begins where it ends... in nothingness.  A nightmare borne from deepest fears, coming to the unguarded.  Whispering images unlocked from time and distance.  A soul unbound, touched by others but never held.  On a course charted by some unseen hand.  The journey ahead promising no more than my past reflected back upon me.  Until at last I reached the end.  Facing a truth I could no longer deny.”_

\- Dana Scully, _Emily_

* * *

 

**Outside Singuilucan** **, Mexico**

**Unknown Coordinates**

**March 17 th, 2013**

**9:23 a.m.**

They had ridden the work train car until they had run out of track.  Thinking they had wrecked when the car came to a lurching stop, Kryder grabbed his chest sure his heart would explode, but the failsafe mechanism and their slow speed worked together to absorb their momentum without any catastrophic consequences.

The adults on board had each taken turns manning the emergency brake knowing it would be of little use if they came upon any debris large enough to derail the vehicle.  Given the lack of visibility, they had set the pace of the car to a crawl and spent the long cold hours curled in their sleeping bags attempting to find what rest they could against the clatter of the wheels on the track.  Now they disembarked in the dark, unsure of exactly where they were. 

Miles behind them, the Gunmen watched over Skinner and Rachel.  Before them, the great fog lights of the wrecker illuminated a nonexistent path beside a river flowing southwest.  In the distance, the arc lightning slipped and thundered across the sky.

Will gripped Scully’s hand in his as he pointed beyond the river.  “I can feel it.  Can’t you?”

Scully feared the indescribable pull she felt.  “Mulder?”

“I feel it, too.”  He tightened the strap of his pack against his shoulder.  “Guess we hoof it from here.”

Kryder wasn’t sure what the others were noticing.  “Feel what?”

“It’s calling us,” Will replied.

“Maybe we shouldn’t go,” Mulder said.  “Scully, is it like when you were abducted? Like Ruskin Dam?”

“I’m not sure, Mulder.  I don’t remember much from that time.”

To his side, Mulder felt a presence and turned to see that Melissa had joined them.

“This isn’t like before,” she told him.

Scully noticed Mulder’s head jerk and turned to him.  “What is it?  What did you see?”

When Mulder didn’t immediately respond, Will did.  “He sees your sister.”

“Melissa?”

Mulder focused on Scully’s voice past the spirit’s, so much alike.  “She says this isn’t like before.” 

“Mulder, tell her-“

“She knows, Scully.  They all know.  They’ve been with you, with us.”  He turned back to Melissa, but she was gone.  “They’ve been here whenever we need them.  There’s a road over this hill we can follow. C’mon.”

Slowly but surely, the sole of Will’s boot was tearing off.  His feet had grown since he’d gotten these shoes, and the thick boots had been becoming uncomfortable.  Now that he could feel the blisters on his toes, it was more difficult to ignore.  Unable to stand it anymore, he finally stopped and sat down on the road.  “Can we stop a minute?”  He was already pulling off the offending shoes.

Turning her light on, Scully was beside him.  “What’s wrong?  This is a really bad place to stop.” 

“It’s my feet,” Will admitted, peeling off his socks.  Scully kneeled back to avoid the strong odor coming off them. 

“Aw Will, why didn’t you say something before?”  Mulder crouched down beside the boy, casting a doubtful look at Scully.

“I didn’t want to be any trouble,” Will whispered.  “I’m sorry.  I should have been more careful with my shoes.  I just need a few minutes.”

“Oh no,” Scully said, shaking her head.  “You can’t walk on these.  We’ll find some shelter and treat this, but you’re going to have to take it easy.  Don’t worry about the shoes, we’ll fix them.  How far have we walked, Kryder?”

“Nine, ten miles, maybe?”

“This is going to hurt, but put the socks back on.  It’s too cold out here to stay exposed.”  Scully gingerly slipped the socks back on one at a time.  Once she grabbed the boy’s boots, Mulder slipped his arms beneath the boy and stood, hugging him against his chest.  It registered in his mind that the boy should not have felt so light.

“Whaddaya say we get out of this dust for a while?”

They were crowded in the small tent.  Mulder was doing what he could to fix Will’s boots while Scully treated the boy’s sores.  “You’re going to have to let this air for a while, despite the cold.  You really should have said something, you know.  This could be dangerous.”

“Good thing your Mom’s a doctor, huh?” Kryder said after he paused to cough, attempting to lighten the mood as he removed his facemask.  “A couple of hours of rest will do us all good.”

“Wouldn’t hurt if we could all stretch out,” Mulder said, holding up his handiwork before his fading light.  He grimaced before he set them back down.  “Can’t say cobbling was a required course at the Academy.”

“Can you cut out the edge so his toes have room? Loosen the laces, too?” Scully asked.

“Yeah, I can play with them some more if I can borrow your light.”

“Kryder, how are you for bandages?  I’m short.”

Kryder maneuvered his thick pack awkwardly in the tight space.  “I’ll give you what I got, hold on, but I think we’re out of batteries.”

_‘You’re close now.  It’s calling you.’_

_“What is it?” Will asked.  He recognized what he thought was Albert’s voice, disembodied, surrounding him._

_‘It’s the first ship that came.  The first well.’_

_“The first ship?” Will pressed._

_‘The one your Mother saw was the last.  It was the destroyer.  This one was a creator, but it has been sleeping.’_

_“You talk about it as if it’s alive.  What do you mean?”_

_‘It’s waiting for you.  Listen to your instincts and ancestors, and they will guide you.  They have been with you, and they are with you still.’_

_Sensing the spirit leaving him, Will cried for Albert to wait.  “I still don’t know what you expect me to do! Help me!”_

Will woke in a cold sweat and immediately felt that his toes were numb.  Blind in the dark, he shifted and inadvertently elbowed Mulder in the gut.  Before he understood what was happening, Mulder was on his knees above the boy with his switchblade poised at the boy’s throat.  Kryder had sat up at the first hint of sound, turning on his headlight while blinding them both. 

Catching Will’s terrified expression and scream beneath his, Mulder tore away though there was little room to move in the tent.  Kryder moved just in time to avoid Mulder landing where he had been on his ass.  Commotion erupted as Scully woke thinking they were under attack. 

“Jesus Christ Will, I could have killed you!” Mulder bellowed.  He dropped the switchblade beside him and covered his face and hair with his hands.

Will’s heart was hammering his chest and he coughed hard after breathing so heavily.  “I’m sorry! I was dreaming… I didn’t mean to hit you!”

“Alright, stop shouting!” Scully yelled.  She was slightly calmer when she asked, “Is everyone okay?”  When no one answered, she answered herself.  “It’s okay, we’re all okay.”

Beside her, Will curled up in a ball as Scully wrapped her arms around the boy.  He was desperately aware of his feet.  “Can I have my socks now?”

“Yeah, sure, Will.  Let’s get out of here.”

**Federal Highway 132**

**Unknown Location, Mexico**

**March 18 th, 2013**

**1:15 a.m.**

They had been walking for hours.  A particularly bold streak of lightning lit Will’s face as he reaffirmed his grip on Mulder’s shoulders.  His feet hadn’t lasted long, and he had been riding on Mulder’s back ever since.  Now his arms ached as much as his feet.

The bright streak had also provided their first glimpse of the looming pyramids. 

“There! Did you see them?” Mulder asked, pointing with his torch.  Their lights were rapidly failing and Mulder had improvised before they resumed their journey.

“They’re huge,” Kryder commented.

“I’ll say,” Scully added.

Mulder began walking through the brush bordering the highway toward the structures.  “This was once one of the largest cities in the world.  Then around 750, key sites were burned and people abandoned the city.  Remarkably strange was that someone returned in force to bury many of the structures, in an effort not dissimilar to what it took to create them, despite their more limited resources.  Eight square miles, 250,000 people, and now… it’s this.  A microcosm of what eventually happened to rest of us… We should have learned.”

A voice in the darkness behind them called out as it approached.  The figure was humanoid and its edges emitted a soft glow that radiated an otherworldly light.

“They feared what they saw coming,” it said in a thin feminine voice.  “They attempted to bury it.  They knew the world changing heralded their deaths.”

“Joy!” Will called.  The girl had stayed behind with the Gunmen to look after Skinner.  Stepping into their lights, the others now saw it was the girl they knew as Rachel.  But Joy continued speaking in a voice that did not match her form, lifting an arm blindly to point to the left of the largest pyramid.  The pulling sensation they felt seemed to be focused there. 

“The people believed in representing the universe in how they laid out their cities.  They believed that this granted their rulers the power to transverse with other worlds within their temples.  The Upperworld and the Underworld where their deities and spirits lived.  Great ceiba trees once grew here, uniting the planes and life forms from one world to the next.”

She walked past them and ahead, leaving them little choice but to follow.    

“By caring for the roots of the trees, the people ensured their ability to call on their ancestors for help and guidance, but when they abandoned the city, these things were lost.  The last of the roots of the sacred trees have died, and you are not long for this world.  Come, I will show you.”

“Wait! Joy!” Will called.  “Is this another dream?” Running forward before Scully could grab him, he reached for the girl’s shoulder to watch in horror as his hand passed through her. 

Shimmering, the light turned in the guise of the girl to the boy, but continued to walk.  “I have taken this form only to comfort you, because it is familiar to you.”  Shifting, the light slowly morphed through several forms: Melissa, Albert, Samantha, the boy from the beach, an older woman in a nurse’s uniform. 

“Nurse Owen!” Scully cried.   

“I have many forms,” the light continued.  “Each I have taken when you needed it most.”

Mulder spoke up, unsure of what they were confronting.  “But you told us we had to come here, to ask for help.  Is it you we’re asking? What are you?”

The light continued moving and morphing.  One moment it was in the form of Owen Jarvis, tall, bald, and menacing.  The next moment the ghost spoke as Maurice.  “You are here, you are asking.”  The form shifted to that of Deep Throat.  “You’ve been asking for a very, very long time.”

The light paused and turned to Mulder, Deep Throat’s smiling expression turning to one of pity.  “I often spoke to you when you ran the track at the park, do you remember?”

Mulder nodded.  “Why here, now, when it’s already too late? We can’t go on like this.”  Waiting for an answer, the spirit compelled him to whisper words from the past.  “Because… all the evidence to the contrary, is not entirely dissuasive.”

Taking the form of Bill Mulder, the spirit gauged him.  “Don’t give up.”

“Where are you leading us?” Scully asked.  “Have we died?”

“Here,” the spirit said, pointing at the ground ahead.

It was difficult to ascertain what the light was referring to, but then Mulder crouched and saw the pitch in the ground as a gaping orifice opened into the Earth.  Steam rose in the chilled air. 

“What is it?” Kryder asked.

“It’s a hole,” Mulder replied.  “Is this the entrance to the tunnel they found a few years ago?” Mulder asked.  “Below the Temple of the Feathered Serpent? Quetzalcoatl was a dualistic deity here, Earth-bound yet divine, a bringer of knowledge.”

The light descended into the depth, nearly disappearing in the dark.  “It is a well.  Beneath the temple there is a ship…  Those of us who came here with it remain bound here.  This planet was our home.  We were the first.”

Mulder cast a wary glance at Scully seeing that her misgivings matched his own.

“Look… spirit, I’m sorry, I don’t know what to call you…”

“I told you once to trust no one.  You learned quickly… I have no name.  I have many names.  Mehen…”  The spirit began sinking slowly and Mulder followed down on the ladder left behind by whatever team had been surveying this site, holding his torch aloft as he descended. 

“Tell me, then… the Greys?” Mulder asked.  “The clones and shape shifters? The faceless men?”

“Other forms of what you call the oil, but younger, and corrupted… all seeking a new home.  Our home… All misguided.”

Mulder followed the light as it shimmered and rotated across the open expanse of a thin but tall tunnel.  He noticed Scully and the other following him down but didn’t know whether to tell them to wait or join him. 

“You called it _our_ home?” Mulder asked.

“Old souls… rising and rising again… together… to learn and grow…”

The light paused, as if it waited for the others to edge closer.

“Is that why you brought us here?” Mulder asked it.

“Though the roots are gone,” the spirit replied, “the seeds remain.  They were buried here by those that were dead.”

Mulder felt the pull again by his feet and saw that Will had come to stand beside him.  “It’s here, below us, isn’t it? The ship?”

Getting down on his knees, Will brushed at the dirt of the tunnel floor until a smooth metal surface was revealed.  A faint glow became apparent around a paper thin circular edge larger than Will’s spread hands.  The glow strengthened as a ring of hieroglyphs lit as Will continued brushing dirt and sand away from the tunnel floor.  William felt the passage from the Quran as Scully recognized it.  It was chapter seventy-five, detailing the day of final judgment and rebirth.  She had seen it etched like this before.

“It’s your ship… you’re destroying it,” the boy whispered, unsure why the phrase was echoing through his mind.  “Help me…”  Beneath his hands, he could feel mechanisms shifting and spinning.

Mulder dropped to his knees beside the boy and began to uncover the outer crevices of the ship with his hands.  The pulse of the glowing light intensified as the light grew exponentially.

Behind them, Kryder dropped to his knees and began to pray.

For a moment there was complete darkness, and then the next moment they were falling through a deafening roar and a blinding flash that seemed endless.


	25. Chapter 25

**XXV**

* * *

  
_“Eyes I dare not meet in dreams_  
In death's dream kingdom  
These do not appear:  
There, the eyes are  
Sunlight on a broken column  
There, is a tree swinging  
And voices are  
In the wind's singing  
More distant and more solemn  
Than a fading star.”  
― T.S. Eliot, _The Hollow Men_

* * *

 

**Unknown Beach**

**Unknown Coordinates**

**Unknown Date**

Mulder coughed as if he’d swallowed too much water and blinked his eyes as shadows dimmed the light shining in his face.  As his eyes adjusted to a bright sun shining on the beach near an open sea, the Gunmen stared down at him with curious expressions.  Mulder groaned, casting his head back into warm sand. 

“If this is heaven, I’m thirty-seven virgins short.”

“I don’t think so, punk ass,” Frohike said, grabbing Mulder’s arm to pull him up. 

“Uh,” Byers said looking to his comrades before chuckling.  “It’s good to see you too, Mulder.”

Langly jerked his chin toward the sea.  “Our boat skipped its mooring while we slept, and we woke up out there when the sun was coming up.  What happened to you guys?”

Mulder sat up suddenly, remembering.  “Scully!”

“Behind you,” she called.

Turning, he saw Scully on her hands and knees, stretching.  She looked like she had been through the wringer and without consciously being aware of it, he was moving toward her.  Once he thought about it, he realized they all probably looked that way.  He couldn’t remember the last time he had thought about his appearance but then his lips found hers and he didn’t care anymore.  Wrapping his arms around Scully provided the catharsis he had needed and he cried freely as he continued to kiss her, whispering how much he loved her.

Standing near Skinner on the edge of the trawler’s deck, Joy emitted a wail as she spotted Will floating face down in the water.  She was off the edge of the boat and into the water by the time any of the others reached her, struggling to pull at William’s larger body.  Mulder reached her quickly, pulling them both back to the edge of the shore.  Scully met him as he laid Will down in the shallow surf and immediately started CPR, launching into fast and hard chest compressions.  When she paused briefly to listen for the boy to breathe, William spasmed and coughed hard, a stream of water erupting from his lungs.

He blinked his eyes as they adjusted to the bright light and sucked in deep breaths as he sat up and coughed hard to clear the water remaining in his chest.  He briefly remembered choking on fumes and drowning in the dark as everything went black.  Once the worst passed, he felt Mulder’s arms pull him into a strong embrace.  The man’s gratitude, relief, and love washed over him and he felt hopeful for the first time in months.  He felt his hair being wiped back from his eyes.

Looking as far as he could without turning his head, Will spotted a colorful bird he couldn’t identify frolicking on the wind with a twin.  He wondered if he might ever be so carefree again. 

“Have we died?” he asked.

Scully had turned her head to see what had caught Will’s gaze but snapped her attention back to the boy at his question.  The thought hadn’t crossed her mind and her hand absently sought after and found the cross hanging at the base of her neck.

Kryder was beside them kneeling in the surf.  “I don’t think we’ve finished what He’s set us out to do.  I think we may just be beginning.”

Meeting his father’s eyes, Will saw the man smiling at him, bursting toward a grin as he shook his head. 

“No.  We made it, Will.  I think we’ve been given the chance to start over.”

* * *

 

**  
EPILOGUE**

* * *

  
_“My heart leaps up when I behold_  
A rainbow in the sky:   
So was it when my life began,   
So is it now I am a man,   
So be it when I shall grow old   
Or let me die!   
The Child is father of the Man:   
And I could wish my days to be   
Bound each to each by natural piety.”

William Wordsworth, _My Heart Leaps Up When I Behold_

* * *

_Hope springs eternal, so I’m told._

_Dad said it called to him like a homing beacon, but I’m not really sure if that’s how it happened or not.  What shouldn’t have shocked me was that the house was here when we arrived, just as he had described it.  The oak tree I had envisioned so often stood growing as if the rest of the world hadn’t really changed that much at all.  My parents had planted it here for me so it could be an anchor and it is.  I’m not sure if it connects this plane of existence with any others but I do know that deep roots are not reached by the frost._

_Looking down and out toward the horizon, I can clearly see the beach where we woke up when the world was new, where my dreams still take me.  Now and then, some new survivor still wakes up, but there’s plenty here for more.  Everything else seemingly erased and remade except this isolated patch of Eden in what might have once been Virginia, a land you’ll only know from fairy tales.  The sea is calm and bright.  The waves are gentle as they lap at the shore.  Even the birds sound like they’ve found peace.  Maybe it’s just me because I’m so damn happy._

_My dreams have been of blowing the seeds of dandelions from this cliff, watching them catch the breeze, but there was a new visitor the other night that distracted me.  It’s to you I write this as I picture you playing down below by the shore.  No one else knows about you yet and the suspense is making my hands tremble, but I recognize you.  It’s awful hard to miss that nose._

_We haven’t told anyone, but your mother and I have been waiting patiently for you for a while now.  People have been pestering us since Father Kryder married us where I sit.  I didn’t want a ceremony, but the people here like any excuse for a celebration.  She’s going to be thrilled to meet you, but she’ll have to wait.  We agreed long ago that I’d get to choose your name if you were a boy, but I don’t think she’ll like the one I have in mind.  Like the Rachel rescued Ishmael, she’s saved me a hundred times over, so I may have to consider her thoughts on the matter.  Mom says the best relationships, the ones that last, are often rooted in friendship.  She’s a wise woman, your Grandma._

_A whole firing squad will be waiting for you with love and affection and God knows what else.  You’ll have your pick of doting grandparents and uncles.  I’ve been glad to have them as my family, to be able to care for them the way they once cared for me.  It strikes me that I’ll need to expand our small cabin.  It’s not much, but more than enough.  When you’re older, we can plant another acorn together outside your window.  I’ll face your room toward the orchard, where the sun rises.  Maybe you’ll follow in my and Grandma’s footsteps and become a healer.  A man holds high hopes for his son._

_We’ve been given a chance here to start over again with this world.  We’ll be the stewards we never were before and prepare in case the Colonists ever return.  Sometimes I sit here and wonder about the Voyager spacecraft… if it’s still out past Pluto broadcasting where we are for anyone who wants to listen or if we’ve entered an entirely new realm.  I don’t think our white whale will lie in our oceans, but out in that vast beyond.  Deep below this ocean, the remnants of those other old worlds lay sleeping.  Maybe if we can hold on to the lessons the past should have taught us and reinvent the wheel, we won’t fuck it up this time._

_We’ll appreciate all the simple pleasures without taking them for granted and take time to do things right.  We’ll grow and rebuild civilization, each of us a gardener, a carpenter, a healer, a sentinel.  We’ll survive, we’ll evolve, we’ll thrive._

_Your grandparents are out exploring again.  We’re still not sure how far this continent stretches or if there are others.  I think they like it here.  Dad says he got all three of his wishes after all.  I can imagine you becoming an explorer like them.  Maybe we’ll be able to visit this undiscovered country together some day._

_Ten months is a hell of a long time to wait, but I’ll be here, ready for what dreams may come._

_That’s what I want to believe, anyway._

_W.F. Mulder_

_Hope Springs_

_New Earth_

_New Year’s Day, P.C. 15_

* * *

 

***A.E.D.E.G.E…***

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’ve come this far, be kind on the way out and leave me a review, please? Thanks for reading!
> 
> I’ll be happy to respond to any questions via PM. I left a few items open to the imagination on purpose. 
> 
> Oh, and treat yourself – Eddie would!


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